


A Prince and a Pirate's Fate

by shytalia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cardverse, Cardverse AU, Kings & Queens, M/M, Pirate AU, Pirate England, Pirate Uk, USUK - Freeform, pirate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 64,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shytalia/pseuds/shytalia
Summary: When the future King and Queen of the Spade's Kingdom come of age, a mark appears on their body. Alfred is the kind Prince of Spades, heir to the throne. Arthur is his fated husband, the future Queen.The only problem is, Arthur is one of the most infamous pirates to sail the seas, a wanted man in all four kingdoms, and he violently refuses his place in the castle.No attempts at capturing him have been successful and he remains on the run, fulfilling his lust for defiance. Alfred, following his nineteenth birthday, decides to take the task of bringing Arthur home into his own hands.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 178
Kudos: 338





	1. The Goddess's Laugh

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my new story and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I will edit the rating, pairings, characters, ect. as the story goes on to reflect any changes that may occur :) Any chapters that might require any specific warnings will have them at the top in the notes and any NSFW chapters will also be noted in the chapter title.

Sometimes, Alfred swore The Gods were laughing at them.

As he kneeled before an altar, dressed in shabby clothes and in a small, port town with nothing but fish and brothels to its name, he wondered how this had all happened. 

Arthur Kirkland, one of the four kingdom’s most wanted pirates, was named the next Queen of Spades. 

Alfred had laughed at first when he heard the news since he figured it had to be some sort of shitty joke, only the punchline never came. It was confirmed that Arthur was, in fact, the correct person. It wasn’t easy, of course. A lot of people tried to take fake ownership over the title, brandishing their skin with false symbols of the Spades. But they were each debunked as frauds and the search for the real queen had continued.

Usually, it was not this difficult to find the queen. When the next King and Queen came of age, slowly a mark began to appear on their bodies to reveal their true destiny. So, as one might imagine, a deep, navy mark in the shape of a spade on someone’s skin coming out of nowhere was fairly hard to ignore. There were no rules as to where it appeared, it could be flashy and materialize on someone’s wrist, for all to see. Or, it could be more intimate, on the small of their back or on their thigh. 

Alfred knew his mark was due to appear soon after his eighteen birthday and it wasted no time making itself known on his right hip. His many fans marveled at the placement, it was easy to cover up, but it also conjured seductive fantasies into their minds at the prospect. 

Of course Alfred expected the reaction, ever since he had been a young teen, girls and boys alike wished to see the matching mark appear on their own skin. Not only for the power and the wealth, but many wanted Alfred himself. Why wouldn’t they? He was the Spadian Golden Boy. 

Everyone swooned over his tanned skin, revealing in the way it shone with sweat when he sparred or practiced his weaponry skills. They simply wanted to run their fingers through his wheat blonde hair and stare into his eyes, often equated to the vast, blue sky in which their gods shone down on them. Everyone wanted him.

Well, almost everyone.

Arthur’s mark had appeared before even Alfred’s had, considering he was a good four years older. By this point, he had already become one of the most hated people in all the kingdoms.

He had started to make a name for himself early on, seemingly coming out of nowhere but with such a feisty attitude, wit, and the will to fight, he quickly rose from just some shabby nobody to a master of strategy on the sea. He gained a following and by the age of seventeen had already accumulated enough loyal people to call himself a Captain. This also meant he rose to the top of most wanted criminals, but despite the navy’s best efforts to collect him, Arthur always managed to escape. Almost.

There had been one faithful day in which the British Spadian had not been as lucky and was promptly detained by military guards. They had been following the Captain and cornered him in a coastal town, managing to lock him up and report back to the castle that they finally had the menace in custody. All they needed to do then was escort the prisoner back to the capital to face judgement.

That was how it was supposed to go, anyway. But before they could make it to their destination, they had to prepare the prisoner to enter the castle. They surely didn’t trust a pirate not to have weapons hidden on him, after all, and a change of clothing to better prepare him to stand before the current king and queen was only proper. That way, they wouldn’t have to subject themselves to peering down at a rogue pirate, dressed to fit the description. He had been in torn, black pants, a low cut shirt, jewelry no doubt stolen, piercings in his ears, and a deep, blood red coat to show his authority. That power held no meaning with the guards, however, as they began to strip the bound prisoner to change him into more moderate clothing.

It was then that the fate of the Spade Kingdom would change forever. 

As they undressed him, they could tell the captain grew more and more agitated. He turned and twisted, making it progressively difficult for them to take off his shirt. Eventually, one of the guards buckled under the annoyance and pulled out a knife. Reportedly, Arthur had not shown any fear at the blade and only matched the sharpness with his own, cold glares. 

His resolve wavered slightly, however, when he realized the knife was not meant for his skin but for his clothing. In one quick movement, the guard had yanked his shirt and cut through it, making it impossible for Arthur to fight the removal any longer. It was then that both guards stopped and stared, questioning their sanity as well as their positions to the crown. 

Before them was a man, gagged to keep his curses muffled and hands cuffed to keep him from running. A wanted gunman with blood on his hands. But on his back, between his shoulder blades, was a distinct, dark mark perfectly in the shape of a spade. 

Having been trained relentlessly to find the queen should they come across them, like all royal guards and military personnel, their first instinct was to test if the mark was truly what they feared it would be or if it was just a normal tattoo. To their horror, the truth was revealed that the pirate in their custody was marked as their next queen. They sent word immediately to the castle, who at first did not believe them, but upon inspection after inspection, and test after test, there was no denying the horrible fact that Arthur was indeed Alfred’s intended by fate.

He was to be brought to the castle immediately. 

By some miracle, at least in Arthur’s eyes, the wagon was intercepted and he was freed by members of his crew and, strangely enough, a new friend they had made along the way. His name was Lukas, he learned, and he was not only a devoted priest of The Gods, he was an excellent mage with magical powers almost unmatched. With his help, the loyal crew members were able to rescue their captain from his undesired destiny.

Shortly after, word spread of the shocking revelation. People didn’t believe it, not at first. But, as the gossip spread farther and farther, the infamous Arthur Kirkland became wanted less for the crimes he had committed and more because the royal family wanted their rogue queen apprehended and brought to them. 

Alfred was finding it particularly hard to pray when all these thoughts kept swirling around in his head. It was said that The Goddess herself marked the new queens with the royal symbols, but the young prince simply couldn’t understand why She had to mark _Arthur Kirkland_ of all people.

He had lots of dreams about his future and the person he was going to be spending it with. He had prayed fervently to The Goddess in hopes to have a joyful and easy love life with his mysterious, future queen. Many monarchs simply tolerated each other, if they didn’t down right loathe one another, and very few ever actually fell in love. Alfred didn’t want a life of hating his partner but now, as he kneel before a statue in Her honor, he could only imagine she was laughing at him.

It had been nearly four years since Arthur’s secret was discovered and in those years, the royal military had tried desperately to claim him. Their navy occupied the seas he sailed, their guards watched many ports and coasts like hawks, they even put out a handsome reward for anyone who could capture the elusive Brit and deliver him. All these attempts at capture had failed miserably. 

Many balked at the way Arthur evaded his fate, shouldn’t he want to claim his place? He was practically promised riches, food, clothing. Anything he ever desired, he could have in the palm of his hand. The royal court had tried desperately to play on this mindset as well, promising the Brit that if he surrendered himself, he would face no judicial punishment based on his past actions. It was unheard of! For a pirate captain as notorious as him to be given full pardon, everyone figured it was only a matter of time before Arthur came waltzing up to the castle gates himself. But as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, they realized the stubborn pirate was not interested.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

Alfred’s eighteenth birthday had been celebrated with a feast and loud celebrations. He had finally come of age and was expected to marry his queen soon. The lack of the new queen at the festivities put a sour mood in Alfred’s mouth, despite his signature smile and all the gifts. Don’t get him wrong, he was not at all thrilled about being married to Arthur-renegade pirate-Kirkland, but he was the Prince and therefore, needed to put aside his own feelings for the betterment of the kingdom. It struck a nerve in him to think that Arthur was considered any sort of ‘betterment’, he had no idea what The Goddess could possibly be thinking with this.

Nonetheless, it had been years since that fateful day his future husband was found out. Every single day they had failed ceremoniously to bring him home. So now, at age nineteen, Alfred decided he would be the one to bring Arthur back himself. He had waited patiently, as he was told to, but now that a year had past since his eighteenth birthday and they still were no closer to capturing Arthur, he grew tired of being idle. He was past his coming of age and Arthur was already twenty three, well past the usual marriage of a future queen. It was only adding insult to injury.

So here he was, in a small, modest temple fit dimly by candles and incense. He finished his prayer and stood up, walking out into the chilly, sea-salt air. 

He had not been permitted to leave the castle on his own and surely not on some wild goose chase after a wanted criminal. That was why he had to sneak out, he was a prince after all and he knew how to evade his guards so he could go have a good time. He was notorious for sneaking out and just having fun in the capital, talking, helping, eating, drinking, and dancing with the locals. It was part of why he was so loved by them, he felt like one of them, not just some up-tight kid sitting on a throne of privilege. Alfred loved his people and showed it openly and without apology, and in turn they adored him for it too. 

Now, those secret passages out of the castle grounds served a new purpose, to get him out so he could find Arthur. That’s exactly what he did, only pausing to leave a parting note for his dear parents. 

He also made sure to dress less extravagantly, he didn’t want to tip anyone off as to who he was or get robbed. Many people knew his name and who he was, but surprisingly many also did not know his face as well as they thought they did. Once he managed to sneak out of the main capital, it became easier and easier to blend in. In towns and villages not as close to the castle as the big city, less people recognized him and that made traveling easier. After all, they weren’t as invested in the royal family as those closer to the castle. They had hard jobs to do dealing with agriculture and fishing, too busy working with their hands to provide for their families to care what some rich people looked like.

That worked in Alfred’s favor as he made his way to the coast, in a little town near where he had heard Arthur was last sighted. He searched for clues and asked subtle questions, but found himself disappointed when not much was revealed. After a couple of days, he was starting to lose hope in his search, as no one he talked to seemed to have any sort of lead for him to follow. That was, until, he heard someone mention a large ship coming towards the dock. His ears perked up at that and he listened in.

A large ship of some sort was coming to dock at their shores and the people of the town readied themselves. They were either there to pillage or to spend money, and being in a coastal town, you had to be prepared for both.

Alfred took this information and ran with it, making his way towards the waters to see just what ship they were talking about. Upon lying his eyes on it, he knew there was no mistaking it.

This was a vessel he had never seen with his own eyes, but had heard described like it was a prayer. The dark, mahogany wood stood proud against the cool waters of the sea. The masts, to Alfred, were a synonym for depravity and refusal of divine fate. But, it was the figurehead that protruded from the front of the ship that was truly a dead giveaway, no other ship had anything like it. 

It came in the shape of a wooden woman facing outward, her hair curling around her face and behind her, as if the wind itself was blowing through it. In her hands was a bow and an arrow, ready to be shot at the foes foolish enough to stand before her. She was a symbol of fear to those unlucky enough to come across her wrath but a thing of beauty and grace for those who simply watched it bob from the waves. It was the famed figurehead of The Siren's Arrow.

Alfred knew he couldn’t let this chance pass him by, so he slowly made his way closer to where the boat had stopped and allowed some of its passengers to exit. Thankfully, they all looked rather docile at the moment, laughing with one another and heading right for humanly indulgences in the form of either food, bars or brothels. 

The young prince watched them each carefully, but his frown sunk lower when each passed that didn’t match Arthur’s depiction. He had never seen Arthur in person, obviously, but there were enough “Wanted” posters around to know what he looked like.

Finally, after a painfully long half an hour in which he lazily leaned against a wall and watched, he caught sight of something that made him catch his breath. From among the crew members still spilling from the ship, he pinpointed a bustle of messy, blonde hair. He moved to lean in closer, squinting his eyes to watch the newcomer as he stepped off the ship and onto the pier. 

He was smaller than Alfred expected. He had heard stories of the unlikely captain, that he was not as tall or large as many other pirates tended to be. In fact, he looked petite beside his rough cohorts. He was also rather attractive. Alfred caught his thoughts before they trailed off too far and kicked himself for thinking that the man walking casually onto the beach was anything but a slimy criminal. Small or not, the prince knew that Arthur was a dangerous man, not above breaking the law or killing him if he saw him as a threat. 

He was also sure he would be less than pleased to see a royal, of all people. This was where Alfred’s plan came to a fault. He had been evading guards and gathering clues as to where Arthur was, with no real plan of action to actually get him back home with him. He surely was stronger than him physically, just based on their bodies, but he couldn’t exactly pick the Brit up and run all the way back to the castle with him. Surely, he’d be dead before he even got out of this town.

He had been so trapped in his thoughts again as he watched Arthur, he didn’t process that the man in question was growing ever closer to him. He also didn’t notice that the other blonde noticed him staring intently.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lukas is aph Norway


	2. First Meeting

Arthur found it easy to realize when he was recognized. He had to, after all if he wasn’t aware of his enemies he could be caught off guard easily. So when he caught sight of a young man standing on the beach not too far away watching him, he took interest. The boy’s eyes never left him, even if they seemed a bit spaced out. Everyone else in the town peered, sure, but their curious glances wandered around from the ship, to the different people who unboarded, to where they were going. This boy, however, did not. His gaze was fixed solely on him.

There was an air of familiarity to the lad’s face, but it was one that Arthur couldn’t quite place and that only made him question his intentions further. He didn’t look like a royal guard or a bounty hunter, so who was he and why did he feel he should know him? It didn’t really matter, as long as he didn’t try anything stupid and left him alone, the boy could stare all he wanted. Maybe Arthur was just being paranoid and all that was happening was that the kid just liked what he was seeing. The narcissistic thought put a smirk on Arthur’s face. 

Alfred only popped out of his thoughts when he realized his gaze was being returned and the other had a devilish grin on his features. The prince stiffened where he stood, fearful for a moment that that captain had recognized who he was. But, no immediate threat ever came as the Brit simply tore off the eye contact and made his way into a beach side bar instead. 

He stood there for a few moments more, strangely frozen in place, then swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. What the hell just happened? There was something taken a hold of him at that moment, seeing the smirk on Arthur’s face and watching him walk away. He couldn’t lie that there was definitely nervousness, he was being looked at by a dangerous criminal, after all. But there was something else, something he could not identify deep in the pit of his stomach that twisted as soon as Arthur was out of sight. It was this feeling that urged Alfred forward to follow him into the bar.

Walking in slowly, the little building was already bustling with life. It was warm, no doubt due to the amount of people in it, and all the talking and laughing that was happening around him. People usually wouldn’t be drinking at this time, it was only just starting to get dark out after all, but he didn’t think the staff minded all the extra coins being tossed their way. 

He squeezed past broad shoulders and avoided the busy waitresses carrying drink after drink to enthusiastic customers. His eyes were scanning only for one person, and soon he found him, sitting alone at the bar with a glass in his hand. 

Alfred felt that same lump in the throat and his heartbeat quickened at the sight of him. He took a few seconds to raise his courage before managing to make his way over to him, sliding into the empty bar stool beside him.

Arthur didn’t even look over at him. 

The air thickened with awkwardness as Alfred thought of what he should say. He fully expected Arthur, the rash and outspoken captain, to spark the conversation. He guessed in hindsight that was pretty stupid, he was the one who walked over to him, after all. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and shook his head when the bartender came over to ask if he was ready to order. The man behind the counter gave a tight frown at the lack of coin, but walked away anyway.

At that, Alfred heard a low chuckle and his head whipped around to its source. Arthur had that grin on his face again and Alfred couldn’t stop himself from staring. 

“You come into a bar, but don’t order anything to drink.” 

Alfred’s ears prickled at the sound, it was low but to him it drowned out all the other noises in the bar. Arthur had spoken knowingly, it wasn’t a question, and there was a hint of darkness at the edges that the younger man had trouble identifying. But that was the last thing on his mind as he listened to that _accent_. He had heard that Arthur was from a small island village, off the coast of the Spade Kingdom to the north. Their kingdom was wide and had many dialects in it, but gods, Alfred had never heard one that sweet on the ears before. 

“So, then why are you here? If you did not come to a bar to drink, you must have come for something else instead.” Arthur continued, still not looking in his direction but finished his drink with one, swift movement upward. Finally, his gaze turned and he looked directly into Alfred’s eyes with a fire that made the younger man squirm a bit. He was smaller than he was, that was a fact, but the Brit held himself with power. Power that he, even as a royal who was used to seeing other monarchs and lords, had never felt before. This was much different than that. This was more raw and unyielding, like a flame burning in one man hot enough to burn them all if he willed it. Alfred wanted to bask in it.

“You’re really beautiful,” Alfred heard himself say it before he could catch it. He didn’t know what compelled him to, but in the end, it wasn’t a lie.

There was a stiff silence between them again before Arthur spoke.

“Follow me.”

The command was all it took for Alfred to slide off his stool and keep behind the smaller frame that strode before him. He didn’t ask questions as Arthur walked up to a man and handed him a few coins, allowing them to pass and make their way up a set of stairs and eventually to a small room. 

For the first time, the warm trance Alfred had been under faltered and his brows furrowed. They were in a bedroom. Why? 

He wasn’t left with much time to wonder when Arthur suddenly had him pushed against the wall and forced their lips together. Alfred’s eyes widened at the movement, feeling warm hands grip at every part of him as Arthur’s hands trailed from his shoulders, down to his hips and then his thighs, before making their way back up his body again. He found it hard to keep the pleased sound from escaping his mouth at the feeling, making Arthur only push against him harder and connect their mouths deeper. 

The smaller blonde gripped the front of Alfred’s shirt and pulled him so close it almost hurt. It was so intoxicating that the younger man didn’t notice he was being pulled further into the room until he was thrown rather roughly onto the bed. It dazed him for a moment before he felt a body on top of him, staring with wide eyes as Arthur sat himself snugly on his lap and used his hands to push Alfred’s back into the mattress. Again their lips met when the pirate bent down, biting down on the prince’s lower lip so hard he swore he tasted blood from it. Next, he trailed down his chin and to his jaw, leaving Alfred to stare stunned at the ceiling as he drank up the attention. 

Again he felt hands roaming his body and instinctively he raised his own to do the same thing, firmly setting his palms against Arthur’s hips and squeezing. This earned the first vocal reaction he had heard out of the other man, and gods did Alfred want to hear more of them. 

He grew braver and allowed his hands to move on their own, groping and caressing different parts of the pirate’s lean body. The Brit fit surprisingly comfortably in his grasp, he thought, as he allowed his eyes to close so he could focus on the taste of salt water that lingered on his lips and the tingle of danger on his fingertips as they danced around his form. Subconsciously, one lingered on his upper back, where he knew the spade mark was reported to have been.

He was too preoccupied to notice the subtle movements from Arthur and that absence of one of the hands no longer roaming across his body to notice what was happening. Suddenly, the frame on top of him rose up, causing him to open his eyes once more and his hands fell from their place. When he peered back up at Arthur, he was met with that same smirk, quirking to one side in a self-satisfied way. The more pressing issue, however, was the knife Arthur had pressed carefully against his throat.

“What the fuck do you want from me,” The captain asked, eyes unwavering as they scanned him for any signs of lying. “You know who I am, I can tell. You were gawking at me like an idiot on the beach and yet you followed me into a bar instead of running to get the guards? Not only that, you blatantly left yourself alone with me. You’re really fucking stupid, aren’t you?” He challenged as a dark chuckle exited his throat. “The only question now is, who the hell are you? If you’re not a guard and you’re not here to collect the bounty on my head, just what exactly are you doing following me around like a lost dog?” 

It took a while for Alfred to collect his senses, but as he gathered them enough to reply, his ecstasy filled eyes shifted into serious ones. “Arthur,” The name drop made the Brit’s large brows furrow further together. He obviously was not used to being called so casually, even by complete strangers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

That earned a scoff and another laugh, but the steel upon his throat never faltered. “I’ve heard that one before. You’ll have to come up with something a bit more creative than that, love.” The pet name was patronizing coming out of that cocky smirk. “Are you some sort of scout? I can tell you right now you’re doing a piss poor job of it. I think it’s time for you to look for a different career.”

“I’m not a scout.” Alfred responded quickly. Whatever spell it was Arthur seemed to have him under before was wearing off and his tactical training was coming to the forefront of his mind. He had to be ready in case Arthur actually tried to hurt him. “I’m not a royal guard and I’m not looking for the reward money.” Arthur seemed dissatisfied with these answers, as his smirk was replaced by a more annoyed scowl. He wasn’t sure if he was believed or not, but he continued anyway. “No one sent me here, I came on my own to find you. I don’t want any money or anything like that. I’m just looking for you.”

“Why?” Came the snappy reply, the frown pulling at the captain’s features visibly more ticked off now. 

“Because I want to join you!” Alfred blurted out without thinking about it. He watched as the pirate seemed genuinely surprised at that, obviously expecting a more devilish answer. Then, Arthur did something he really did not expect. He started to laugh, really fucking hard. 

Finally he could breathe as the knife slipped away from his neck, retreating to be closer to Arthur as he let his laughter echo through the room. Alfred’s face reddened a bit, he didn’t know why the Brit felt the need to laugh at him. Right in his face, no less. 

Arthur leaned back, letting himself cackle despite still straddling the man under him as if it were nothing. “Oh my gods, you really had me, lad. Join my crew? Now that IS a new one!” He grinned back down at him after he gained a little more control of himself. “Now, love, why on earth would you want to do that? Shouldn’t a pretty thing like you go be playing nice in the castle? I always heard they only hire handsome faces, I’m sure you’ll settle in nice with that lot.” He laughed again when Alfred’s blush grew a few shades deeper. 

Alfred gave an annoyed glare through the embarrassment, but now that he had Arthur distracted, he may as well use it. He wouldn’t have many other chances to do this. “I am from the capital, but I came here to find you.” He grabbed a hold of the wrist that threatened him with the knife, before using his superior strength to push Arthur over so that their roles were reversed. The action took the captain off guard and he let out a surprised yelled when he was suddenly the one on his back. “Arthur, listen. I’ve heard so many stories about you that I couldn’t stand it anymore. It’s all anyone ever talks about in the capital. The new Queen this and The future Queen that. Everyone there wants to finally see the future king and queen together --” 

He was cut off by a swift punch to his jaw. He had forgotten to hold down Arthur’s other arm. The prince moved his mouth and thankfully, didn’t think any teeth had been knocked out. He stole a glance back towards Arthur and found him glaring at him like death itself. His eyes darkened and his brows were cast angrily downward, his teeth bared in a snarl so large he thought his face might rip in half.

“How fucking dare you talk to me like that, you little shit!” 

Alfred only barely managed to dodge the knife that hurdled towards his face but in the shock of it he failed to dodge the fiery Brit that threw himself at him directly after. They fell off the bed and onto the floor, messily scrambled together from the fall.

“Arthur, hold on--” Alfred pleaded, realizing he had hit a sensitive topic without realizing it. But the captain seemed far from consolable.

“I am not your queen and I will never BE your shiteing queen!” The criminal yelled at his face, eyes burning with fury. He managed a few more blows to the man under him before his wrists were caught to stop the barrage from continuing. “Take your ass back to your cursed castle and tell that sodding prince that he can shove it if he thinks I am ever marrying him. Don’t you pompous bastards ever take the fucking hint? Find some other poor sap to be your damn, royal eye candy” He practically screamed at Alfred, who looked more concerned for Arthur than at his own injuries as he stared up at him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you felt that way!” The royal exclaimed, he really didn’t.

“Of course you didn’t, you git. None of you look at what’s right in front of you. If I wanted to be queen, don’t you think I would’ve gone to the capital by now? Honestly, are you lot that dim in the head?” Arthur managed to pull one of his arms out of Alfred’s grasp long enough to push away from him, causing himself to roll backwards and off him. 

Alfred was quick to get up, not about to let this opportunity slip past him. He stood tall before the Brit, but made no move to touch him lest he make him more upset. “Arthur, wait -- I really didn’t mean anything by it. Of course how you feel matters. I’m just trying to understand, why don’t you want to be queen?” He asked. If he could understand then maybe he could help, and if he could help, maybe he could convince him to at least try queendom.

The smaller blonde looked like a wild animal cornered between the walls and Alfred’s large frame. His face spoke of violent retaliation at the first sign of danger. “I will kill every last guard you send my way. I will run your oceans red and paint the sand with their blood. The seas will be my graveyard. Stop sending people to collect me, because each one will only be another man you’ve sent to his death.” His voice was darker than Alfred had ever heard in a person’s voice and his eyes gleamed with truthfulness. Arthur really would do that, he realized. Of course he would, he had been doing it for years already. “I don’t know what stupid tactic they’re trying now by sending some kid to help 'understand' me, but I’m far from moved by the ‘concern’. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll back off and leave me alone.” 

“Arthur, I told you, no one sent me here! I came here on my own.” Alfred tried, but Arthur seemed unmoved.

“Then you’re even dumber than I thought.” With that, the pirate shoved past Alfred and swiftly left the room before he even had a chance to stop him. He guessed he should count himself lucky the angry man only did that instead of trying to attack him again.

Alfred couldn’t believe he messed it up this badly. After he had collected his thoughts, he ran out after Arthur but he had vanished into thin air. The other pirates were still in the bar, by now heavily drunk and even more rambunctious than before. There was no sign of Arthur though so he ran outside only for the same result to disappoint him. He could only assume he went back into the ship, the one place Alfred couldn’t follow.

There was something deeper there than Alfred could see, but the look in Arthur’s eyes told a story that he wanted to read. He was determined to find out the pain behind it and help him, no matter what. He just prayed that The Goddess watched over him, lest his fated husband become his reaper instead.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---


	3. Sea Salt

The following morning, Alfred woke up with a start. A loud noise aroused him from his slumber in a small inn room overlooking the sea. He was horrified to see the infamous ship beginning to sail away.

“No, no, no, shit!” He threw on some spare clothes and bolted out the door, running frantically to the shoreline where the ship had already left. “Fuck, fuck! What am I supposed to do now?” He yelled out to the sea, causing a few concerned looks from the locals. He looked frantically from side to side, only pausing when he saw a smaller boat not too far down the shore at a different pier. Even better, there was an old fisherman on it.

“Sir!” He waved his arms above his head at the man as he ran towards him, who in turn looked at him as if he were crazy. “Sir, I need to catch that ship there.” He pointed dramatically towards the fleeing vessel. But maybe it was going slow enough for them to catch. “I beg you, take me to it with your boat. I’ll even pay you for your trouble, look.” He dug out a thick bag from one of his pockets, opening it up to reveal shiny gold coins and offered them all to him. He had brought money with him for obvious reasons, but it would be useless to him if he lost Arthur now after he had just found him.

“W-What? I can’t accept this. Young man, this is too much for a simple ride--”

“No time! It’s yours, all I ask if you get me to that ship.” He begged again, urging the greying fisherman to accept his offer. After some thinking, the old man sighed and relented, allowing Alfred to hop onto his boat before preparing for a speedy chase. Thankfully Arthur’s ship hadn’t released their sails fully yet, so they were going at a leisurely pace propelled mostly only by the calm waves. That being the case, it was easy even for a small boat such as this one to catch up to them before they made it even farther out. Their small vessel rocked hurriedly against the current, coming up upon the massive, wooden form. 

“Arthur! Arthur, come on! Stop! Arthur!” He yelled, but his voice was hardly audible over the thunder of the waves against the ship.

Their presence did not go unnoticed, however. As soon as Alfred was confident they could over pass the large ship and get in front of it, he was greeted by rifles being pointed directly at them from over the dock. The Fisherman gasped and in his panic turned the boat sharply, not taking into consideration his land-legged passenger. 

“Whoa!” The young prince stumbled and fell, crashing into the cold waters below. He managed to resurface, taking a loud gasp of air only to see his only way out, the fisherman, was quickly driving away back towards the distant shore. Wow, did they really go that far out? He could hardly even see the land anymore as he peered into the distance. 

A rush of panic pooled over him. He was stuck in the middle of the ocean! He could try to swim back but his heart was already beating hard from adrenaline and the water was cold on his skin, there was no way he was going to have the energy to swim that far without a rest. 

What made it worse, he realized the ship he had been so fervently chasing after was now turning back towards him. “Oh no, oh no, oh no,” He chanted, making his last dues with the gods because Captain Kirkland was going to absolutely crush him with that ship. But before he succumbed to the violent waves roaring off the wooden vessel, it slowed and turned slightly, until it came to a halt just a ways away.

Confused and scared, Alfred could feel himself growing tired already as he worked to keep himself afloat. He guessed the sadistic sea captain just wanted a front row seat to watch him die. He really was an idiot, now his kingdom would have no future queen _or_ king.

Just when Alfred started to feel himself start to slip ever so slightly under the water, his energy draining out of him, he heard the distinct smack of something nearby hitting the water. Looking, he could see what looked like a large ring floating towards him. Desperate to find purchase on something solid, he used the last bit of his energy to make his way to it and grabbed it. 

He sighed in relief and allowed the ring to pull him slowly closer to the ship and eventually even up towards the deck.

It wasn’t until he actually reached the top that his peculiar situation dawned on him. He was just pulled aboard an infamous pirate ship, one whose crew were guilty of all sorts of inexcusable acts, and now he was at their mercy. He was dragged onto the hard wood and breathed deeply, trying to catch his breath. He could feel the bodies surrounding him without even looking. He knew he had to meet his makers at some point, so he slowly stood up and glanced around at the people who circled him like vultures.

Just as he expected, he was met with various different faces, most of which looked like they wanted to rip him apart piece by piece. Others held expressions of curiosity and a few, much to his dismay, looked openly hungry as they glanced him up and down. He swallowed hard and stood his ground, wondering if he would have fared better in the ocean after all. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a different familiar voice.

“You bloody, absolute, incomprehensibly stupid _git_!” The voice yelled, a path between the rough men and women surrounding him parted to reveal the shaggy haired captain storming forth. Without hesitating, Arthur grabbed the prince by his soaked shirt and pushed him against the wooden frame behind him, the only thing separating Alfred from yet another watery struggle down below. “What the hell do you think you were doing? How stupid can you possibly be? Augh! I should have left you to die!” He was practically screaming in the young man’s face, and yet, Alfred only stared at him in awe.

“But...you didn’t.” It dawned on Alfred in a matter of moments. The horrible, vile, quick tempered villain of the seas had shown him some level of mercy. It was against everything Alfred had ever heard about Arthur. “Arthur, you saved my life.”

“Like hell I did, git. Consider yourself in debt.” The British captain grumbled in return, face twisting in disapproval at the accusation that he might have actually saved Alfred just out of kindness. “And it’s Captain Kirkland, to you.” He corrected, finally releasing the younger man with a rough push sideways, causing the boy to stumble away from him. 

The blonde pirate took a few steps back from the confused prince, his eyes never leaving him. It was like a predator glaring down its next meal. “Take him to The Hole.”

“Huh?” Without hesitation, Alfred felt large hands grab his arms and start to pull him away. Much to his distress Arthur was not following after them and was fading into the distance as he was dragged away. “W-Wait! Hold on, just let me talk to you for a minute!” He struggled to get out of the iron grip that had him, only for it to tighten as a result and pull him faster.

Alfred found himself thrown into a cold cell deep below the ship’s surface and left to sulk there despite how he tried to convince the pirates to do otherwise. “Let me out! I want to talk to Arthur!” He yelled into the dark air, shaking the cell door with loud clunks. This did nothing to affect his captors and he was left alone to wait.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

It was hard to tell how much time had passed as he stayed there in the dim light. He sat on a small cot, hardly better than the damp floor itself but he supposed he should be thankful for it. For a time he waited and listened for any sign of life, but the only sound he could hear was his own breathing and the rumble of the waves outside.

Strangely, it was almost a soothing sound, considering they had nearly killed him not too long ago. The young prince closed his eyes and listened. The waters were powerful and threatening, easily they could grow at any moment and swallow the entire ship whole. Despite this, they rocked the vessel mercifully, and their cycle of kissing the wood helped lull him into a light slumber.

Why did he suddenly enjoy the sound of the waves so much?

They were nice, sure. He had visited beaches and sailed plenty of times to attend to royal duties in other lands, but all those times he had never simply sat and listened. It was like the waves themselves were sirens beckoning him to open his ears and jump in, not some mythical creature.

What was it that had him so unexpectedly fascinated, then? 

Was it the ocean's ability to have ferocious, destructive power, only for some divine reason it chose not to use it and gave them compassionate seas instead?

_Thump._

Perhaps it is its beauty, the way it shined and sparkled against the sun?

_Thump thump._

Or even the way its salt littered the air, forcing him to breathe it in. A familiar scent, where was it from again?

_Thump thump thump._

Alfred sighed softly, subconsciously aware of the noise that grew ever closer to his cell. His mind swirled in an attempt to place that taste of salt water dancing on his lips. Where had he tasted it before? 

“Oi, are you asleep? Wake the hell up!” 

A loud, unforgiving voice startled him from his sleep. He jostled awake, sitting up from his lazy position against the makeshift bed. He stared wide-eyed towards the caged door for the intruder, only to find the one person he actually wanted to see standing on the other side.

“Arthur!” Alfred didn’t try to hold back his obvious joy at seeing the older man, which only earned him another hard scowl.

“It’s Captain Kirkland, you capital tit.” The shorter man corrected quickly. He didn’t move as the prince stood up and practically ran towards the bars, merely inches away from the man he was supposed to marry, but unable to touch him.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t mean to make you so upset.” The wheat blonde’s frown looked sincere, only because it truly was. An aspect Arthur silently thought was too rare in apologies these days.

Still, he didn’t understand why the boy was quite so apologetic about simply calling him by his first name. Of course it was disrespectful to Arthur, he had earned the title through years of work and terror, and did not appreciate some arrogant wannabe from the capital thinking he could address him otherwise. But, most would apologize from fear of punishment, not genuine sorrow. “You must know how important names are, being from the big city and all.” That must be it. There, a certain few names of the rich and powerful ruled everything. But here on the sea? _His_ name nearly ruled it all. 

“What? Oh, yeah, I mean, I’m sorry about that too. I’ll call you Cap if you want.” Alfred’s apologetic face quickly upturned with an almost amused smile, before he suddenly remembered something and it shot down again. “I meant I’m sorry for upsetting you last night, you know, at the bar? I wasn’t trying to imply anything. I really just wanted to understand you better. I didn’t know it was a sensitive subject for you and I didn’t mean to make you mad. Are you still upset?”

Of all the things Arthur thought the boy might say, it certainly wasn’t that. He gawked at him for a moment, unable to decide if he should be angry at him for bringing it up again or impressed with his honesty. Though really, what the hell did Alfred care about his feelings? He was a pirate! Not only that, he was one of the most feared captains in all four kingdoms. He wasn’t one to be coddled, but it made him realize, it had been quite a long time since he heard anyone ask him such a compassionate question.

“I...suppose not.” He settled finally, watching carefully as Alfred’s face shifted from worried to a large grin. It accentuated his nice face, really. He looked much better with a smile than that sour face from before. This ‘capital tit’, admittedly, had a nice, goofy smile to accompany his shining, blue eyes. It was like staring into the depths of the ocean itself. Arthur would know, he had done just that many times before, after all. The realization startled him a bit and he cursed himself for losing focus.

“So,” the grinning man beamed at him with a hopeful gaze. “Will you let me talk with you now that you aren’t mad? Just a little bit, so I can get to know you better.”

Now it was Arthur’s turn to smile, though it wasn’t the optimistic, toothy grin Alfred had. No, his was much more sarcastic, and he smirked as if he had just been told a nasty joke. 

“Idiot, are you really not understanding the situation you’re in right now?” He placed his rough, calloused hands on his hips as he stared at his hopeful prisoner. 

“Huh?” Judging by Alfred’s response, he did not.

“Here you are, on _my_ ship, in _my_ cell, as _my_ prisoner, and you want to talk as if we were just friends?” He said it as if it was obvious his request was insane, since for anyone else it would be! Anyone else in their right mind would be scared shitless being the infamous pirate’s captive. Maybe Alfred really was just plain stupid after all. 

“Have you really not figured this out yet? I could kill you...I could torture you...I could make you my play thing then dump you into the sea when you start to bore me.” His face twisted sharply, his Cheshire grin roughening at the edges. “I thought about it, you know? It wouldn’t be hard, after all. I could make you do whatever I wanted and there would be nothing you could do to stop any of it.” It was a face of such sadistic pleasure that Alfred had never seen a human morph like that before. It sent a chill down his spine as his eyes unwillingly locked on it, unable to force them away. 

Ah, there it finally was. The fear.

Alfred’s stance stiffened and his blue eyes watched the captain carefully, even when Arthur stepped closer. His gaze remained on the pale man before him, even as said man broke the distance between them, reaching through the bars and caressing his face. It stung a little, he could only guess there was a dark bruise left from when he had been punched the night before. The touch was so gentle though, Alfred swore it had to be someone else’s hand. But it wasn’t, it was Arthur’s, and he smelt like sea salt. 

Alfred swallowed the lump forming in his throat, “But...you haven’t.” He stated simply.

The hand on his cheek paused suddenly.

“What?” Came the surprised reply. Even if it was hidden deep under a low, dark mumble, Alfred could hear the confusion.

Alfred grew bolder and was quick to reply. “You haven’t hurt me yet, but you’ve had more than enough chances to.” The prince reiterated. Without thinking, he reached up and grabbed onto Arthur’s cold hand that still lay dormant on his cheek, gripping it gently in his own warm one. “From the stories I’ve always heard about you, you’re ruthless. You’re violent and you won’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in your way. But I can tell that’s not all you are, I know it’s not. You saved my life, cage or not, I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. You even held a knife to my throat for gods sake, Arthur, but I’m still here. Anyone else would call you a monster for it but I don’t see you that way. I don’t think you’re as heartless as people say you are.”

It was Arthur’s turn to go wide-eyed. His emerald eyes sparkled with so many emotions that Alfred could hardly keep up with them all. There was confusion, first and foremost. Denial, skepticism, doubt, and if he was right, a hint of fear.

The Brit jerked his hand out of the prisoner’s soft grasp, somewhere between fuming and disbelief. “Do not doubt me, I will make your life hell on earth.” He spit. And with that, the captain stormed away and out of The Hole.

“Cap? Hold on, wait! Arthur!”

But his cries were ignored, heard only by unsympathetic walls and the pacing sea.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---


	4. The Arrangement

Once again, Alfred found himself asleep on the soiled cot. He had waited patiently for the fiery Brit to return, but to no avail. It was hard to tell the passage of time without any windows, but he was certain he had been down there for at least two days now.

He was growing more anxious than before, the Brit’s words sinking deeper and deeper into his mind. He pictured countless things the notorious Arthur Kirkland could do to him. 

And he didn’t even know he was The Spade Prince yet. Alfred couldn’t imagine that knowledge would go well for him.

Alfred let his mind wander, he had little else to do after all, but somewhere deep down he felt some strange sense of relief. Surely, as far as being caught by pirates go, this was not the worst it could be? He had heard many tales, especially considering who his divinely betrothed was, of bloody battles and sadistic games pirates played. 

Yet, here he was, so far unscathed. Well, save for the bruises Arthur had left him from their fight in the bar, but he guessed he deserved those. 

He stared up at the leaky ceiling above him, finding pictures in the shapes that formed them when he heard the familiar sound of The Hole’s door opening down the hall. He sat up, simply expecting them to be bringing him more food. They had been generous enough to spare him at least a little food while he was down here, so they weren’t trying to starve him to death. He guessed he had that going for him.

This time, however, it was not a tray of slops they brought, but rope. Alfred felt his blood run cold at the sight. For all his skill in fighting and sparring, he was little match for four men at once and was quickly bound with his hands behind his back. 

He hissed in pain at it, the crude rope cutting into his skin slightly more with each step he took. His assailants held no pity, however, and shoved him forward each time he attempted to readjust into a more comfortable position. 

He was led out of The Hole, a way he had been taken before but was too distracted to even pay attention to. Now that he was and he was out of the dim light of the makeshift dungeon, he was admittedly impressed by the ship. It was large, there was no doubt about it. But from on the inside, one could only dream of how many rooms it truly had. 

The other regions of the ship were obviously better taken care of than the one he had been living in the last two days. The place was neatly swept and some walls even had pictures on them. It was almost like an actual home, save for the gentle rocking back and forth. 

The mahogany floorboards were accompanied by a surprisingly intricate baseboard, lining the walls and floors with a touch of elegance unbeknownst to the rest of the world. Windows they passed were sometimes shielded with beautifully designed curtains and on some doors there were even had designs.

He was so preoccupied with taking everything in he completely forgot about his wrists, which were already a bright red from the rope that rubbed them raw.

He was escorted back out onto the docks, where for the first time he really got the chance to look around their surroundings. It was empty. A vast, terrifying, beautiful, deep blue skyline where water met nothing but a dim sky. There were no signs of land in sight and he couldn’t help but feel his heart beat faster as he realized he had no idea where they really were. Kirkland had a habit of keeping near the Spadian kingdom, the castle had only assumed because that is where he was from and thus, the most familiar with it. However, he was known to venture forth to the other kingdom’s waters and even there he proved to be a formidable enemy on the sea. There was a reason he was a wanted man in all four kingdoms, after all.

Besides the expanding ocean engulfing them in solitude, he finally noticed the busy crew members buzzing around the deck. Many stole glances in his direction, obviously curious about the crazy stranger who willingly boarded their ship and wanted to speak with their captain. They were also probably curious about his impending doom, the thought of which made Alfred gulp.

A couple of the crew members stopped their work entirely to send him a morbid grin. It made his brows furrow until said members were prompted scolded by a man with blindingly white hair and piercing red eyes. Nonetheless, he didn’t look all that scary really. Though for the men who mocked him, he quickly became an overly zealous corrector. Alfred imagined he was the one meant to keep everyone in line and working here on the docks and was seeing fit to it that the men did not idle. 

Alfred considered their defeated faces a small victory and grinned himself this time before his eyes moved once more.

Eventually, he did notice one man in particular who stood out. He was not doing busy work or dressed nearly as rugged as most of the others. In fact, his clothing looked delicate and neat. It was a type of clothing Alfred knew well. Robed in an elegant white and grey, marked dutifully with the divine symbol of The Goddess and around his neck her symbol once more in the form of a necklace. He was a holy man of the gods, but what the hell was he doing here on a pirate ship?

The mysterious blonde watched him without failure, something Alfred himself noticed without question. He had heard rumors of a mage helping the crew rescue Arthur from his fate, but if he was truly a man of The Divine, why would he assist them? Should it not be his duty to help guide Arthur into his arms instead of away from him?

Alfred shifted against the rope around his arms at the thought of Arthur actually against him, holding him. To see those big, green eyes stare up at him and only him. Not with anger or resentment, but with genuine affection. Alfred felt a strange pull in his chest as he pictured it.

Quickly broken from his trance, he was once again inside of the ship. This opposite end was much like the other, shockingly elegant and regal. The irony of that was not lost on Alfred. 

However, he noticed there were not as many shared bedrooms the further they went this way. In fact, some of the ones he managed to peer into looked more tactical. Maps were skewed about in one, along with mechanisms for evaluating distance and time. The recognized astronomy and star-reading tools along with them, a pass time he happened to enjoy himself. 

In another room, he saw what looked like a surprisingly large library. Shelves upon shelves of books stacked the crowded spaces and a desk with papers and ink. He was half indecisive about that. Weren’t all pirates supposed to be illiterate? Perhaps not all, but surely it wasn’t a habit for one? Maybe the room was just for show. But then again, who would he be trying to show off to? Guests were an obvious rarity. 

He didn’t have much time to ponder as he was pushed along.

Finally, at the end of a long hallway, Alfred was brought to a beautifully designed door. Carved into it were depictions of waves upon waves, solely occupied by a siren with thick, curly hair. She looked out into the sea, as if watching and waiting for something to happen. In her hand, idle, was a bow and arrow. It was the same woman from the figurehead at the front of the ship. 

He had little time to dwell on it when he was suddenly being pushed forward again, one of the pirates escorting him having knocked on the door and received the alright to come in. As the door creaked open, Alfred couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp.

Arthur was there in front of him, sitting behind a large, wooden desk. Surrounding him were more shelves filled to their full extent with books, some so overpopulated there were novels stacked neatly on the floor beside them instead. 

The wall was a warm, inviting color, despite everything else that told him it shouldn’t be. It was a sharp contrast to the array of blues they used in the castle, but of course they would use the color of their national symbol. Arthur did not, however, and Alfred’s eyes searched even further. There was a large window to one side, half covered by dark curtains that partially obscured the view of the ocean. 

In one corner he noticed a smaller table, on it sat several items Alfred quickly identified as magical. He never had a knack for the arcane arts, always preferring a sword over a spell book. Many people feared what mages could do with their powers, despite many of them being healers or holy persons. Did Arthur know magic? He must, if this was in here.

Along the wall behind the Brit was a beautiful tapestry, clearly expensive and artfully designed. Again, it depicted a woman with a bow in the ocean. This time though, she was finally in color. Alfred dared to say her skin was as softly pale as Arthur’s, but her unruly hair was more orange in color and her blue dress flowed over her body, creating the very waves that crashed around her.

But even all of this, with its lovely embrace of almost familiar refinement, there was one aspect of the room he tried to ignore. 

Across the generous space were reminders of death, no doubt a fate cast down by the fierce captain himself. Weapons, some still stained a dull, reddish-brown were on display. Guns of varying types were held up on the walls, some obviously well used and retired. But nothing was quite as striking as the bones set out for all to see in a large, glass case. Mostly there were skulls, staring at him with forlorn agony, and on some he could see were clearly killed to a blow to the head with the injuries the bones possessed. There were others, too, he swore he saw a hand with jagged ends, as if it had been purposely sawed from its owner. Alfred shivered at the thought, hoping that at the very least, the person it belonged to had been long dead before that act happened. 

“Leave,” he heard Arthur say lowly, his emerald eyes never faltering. Vaguely, Alfred heard the pirates that brought him here turn and shut the door as they abandoned him here before their captain.

Under that intense, dark glare, Alfred’s body jolted with realization. This was Arthur’s throne room: this was where he led his crew, and where he _ruled_ them. This was his sovereignty. 

Here, Arthur was not the perfect, cardboard cutout Queen of Spades. No, here in this room and on this ship, he was the feared and respected Captain of The Siren’s Arrow, and he wanted Alfred to know it.

“Sit.” It was the second command out of Arthur’s mouth but Alfred felt like it was a punch to the gut. This was not the laughing man he had met in the bar. Alfred did as he was told, taking a seat in the empty chair facing Arthur on the other side of his desk.

Now, green eyes only bore into him more heavily. It made Alfred sweat and he was certain his discomfort was more than apparent. This did little to deter the smaller man from continuing. 

“What is your name?” 

Alfred blinked a few times before he registers the question. What was his name? Truly, he hadn’t noticed he never actually gave it to Arthur. He had been so caught up in finding out more about him that he completely forgot to even mention his own name. But now he felt twisted, should he really tell the truth? Arthur would no doubt know the name of the Spade Prince, even if he didn’t know his face by heart. He wouldn’t be the only Alfred in the world by any means, but it definitely would raise some flags with him.

“Um...Allen,” 

“Do not lie to me.” Without hesitation or breaking eye contact, the blonde captain waited again. This time for the correct answer. He made it quite clear that he could tell when Alfred was lying.

The prince fidgeted in his seat, as much as he wished for this to end, he could not pull his eyes away from Arthur as he bore into him deeper. He bit his lip so hard he thought he might break the skin and his hesitation did not go unnoticed. 

“My name is Alfred.” He finally answered, watching carefully for Arthur’s reaction.

There was none, not really. The Brit’s eyes narrowed at him, searching his form for any hint of lying but was unable to find any this time. He visibly stiffened at the sound of his name, whether from discomfort or from anger, Alfred found it hard to tell. But the discomfort was quickly discarded and his glare hardened once more.

“Alfred,” The captain repeated, the name rolling off his tongue in a way that made the younger man squirm yet again. “How unfortunate.” He muttered to himself and if the rest of the room hadn’t been eerily quiet, Alfred wouldn’t have heard it at all. “Tell me, Alfred, why did you follow my ship? Only a fool would do something like that.”

“I already told you, I want to talk to you.” Alfred didn’t know how he could convince Arthur that that was actually the truth. 

The pirate’s reply was swift, and expected. “Shite.”

“It’s true!”

“Alright then, let’s say it is. What the bloody hell could you possibly want to talk to me about that is so important you risk your life for it?” Arthur openly challenged, eyes ever digging into the bound man before him. He thought and quickly added, “And I swear on the gods’ names that if you tell me it was to convince me to turn myself in to the castle, I will personally see your head on a pike.”

Well, shit.

Luckily for Alfred, that really hadn’t been the only reason. If he was being honest with himself, he had been curious about Arthur as a person too. Who wouldn’t be interested in learning more about their future spouse? He had heard countless horror stories and warnings, and just as many sympathetic apologies for his ‘bad fate’, about Arthur that didn’t quell his thirst for answers but actually sparked them.

It was the truth that when Alfred had first heard the news of Arthur’s capture and the mark on his back, he had laughed as if it were a joke. That humor, however, had quickly dissipated and he had lashed out. He didn’t want to marry Arthur! He was evil, disgusting, truly the worst human in the entire Spade’s kingdom and he was supposed to be his husband? What had he done to deserve such a punishment? 

At the time, he had only been a young boy of about fifteen. His entire life was laid before him as glamorous and fulfilling, only to be sucker punched into reality when that stupid mark had been found on Arthur. He had wished, prayed to any god that may find some mercy in their heart to change his fate. Most queens came from humble backgrounds, some even turned out to be of noble houses already aware of proper etiquette and were well-educated. But none, never, in the history of their land had a king been cursed to wed a lawless pirate.

He was bitter about it, angry at the cards dealt to him. Then, it gave way to sadness. Had the gods left their kingdom? Left him? Had he failed his people before he even had a chance to rule? He had asked his father one day if he could marry an esteemed noble instead, since clearly Arthur was unfit to rule anyway. The idea had been shot down in the name of tradition and divine providence. Though even as his father said this, Alfred saw the worry and sorrow for his son in his eyes as well. 

Finally, nearing his eighteenth birthday, something shifted in him. Like a string being drug from his chest, he found himself more drawn to Arthur’s past. Not much was known about him, he had simply sprung up from nowhere and grew in the ranks of the sea. Besides being from a small island, it seemed no one knew too much about him. The mystery was intoxicating. 

So, here he was. Staring down said man in a room decorated with death. It was true he wanted to convince Arthur to leave this life behind and join him at the castle, but it would be just as true to say he simply wanted to know Arthur. Actually know him, who he was and who he had been, why he chose this life and not an easier one in the castle. That pull from his chest drew him here and to him, and he had hardly ignored his feelings before if they felt this true.

He let out a light laugh, something neither of them had expected. “I told you, I want to get to know you, Cap. For all the horrible stories people tell of you, they have never really felt like the whole truth.”

Once again, Arthur’s eyes widened ever so slightly. He really didn’t understand what Alfred was planning to gain from all this. But it didn’t really matter, did it? His life was over. The chances of him ever returning to the capital now that he was a prisoner were slim to none. 

“Unfortunately for you, it is the only truth that matters.” Arthur told him, composing himself before he stood. Slowly he worked his way around the large desk, circling it until he was standing over his uninvited guest. “You, Alfred,” he said lowly as he leaned down to be closer, not failing to notice the way the boy froze still. “Will be my personal servant. You will do what I say, when I say it, and in return you will live. If you fail to do so, I will kill you. Is that understood?” The sentence ended with his lips softly grazing the outline of Alfred’s ear. The younger man shook at the contact.

Alfred’s blue eyes bore forward, not daring to indulge himself at the sight of Arthur so close beside him. Silence dragged on and he could feel those green orbs burning into him, awaiting his answer. Eventually, he was able to nod his head. 

He could practically hear Arthur’s smirk. “Good boy.” He praised, finally distancing himself from his ear and allowing Alfred to finally breathe.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---


	5. Little Surprises

When Arthur had told him he would be his personal servant, Alfred’s mind had conjured up many vile things. He had thought that he really did push his luck too far and he was going to be forced into not-so-consentable positions. But as nearly three whole weeks passed with no such incident, Alfred felt himself be able to breathe again.

He had spent the majority of that week watching his back for any surprises, especially when he could often feel those lively, green eyes burning into him. He had been certain Arthur was going to stalk up to him one day and force him into something horrible. But with each passing day, Alfred came to realize that this wasn’t as bad as he thought it could be.

First things first, he had to learn the layout of the ship. A lot of the rooms were actually just shared bedrooms in which the crew members had cots. He also found out that there was a kitchen, which really shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was to him. There were also places to store their stolen plunder, keep their extra weapons, to man cannons, and a variety of other rooms he should expect from a pirate ship.

He was also introduced to the rooms that made up the hall surrounding Arthur’s quarters. He had been correct when he saw rooms for navigation and one simply for leisurely reading. This hall and all its rooms were specific to Arthur and acted as private territory, for the most part they completely cut off from the rest of the crew except for him.

Despite this, there was one room Alfred was not taken into, which he thought was a bit strange since it was the one closest to Arthur’s ‘throne room’. With it being so close, he assumed it must have been important, and yet Arthur did not see to it that he was properly shown it. 

His tour was unendingly accompanied by Arthur explaining what everything he would need was. He made certain that Alfred would know where to go and what to do in each, just in case he asked him to do something, time would not be wasted. Namely, bringing Arthur his food when he was busy in his study or mapping. 

Alfred did his best to keep up, if being the private servant to a pirate meant he just had to do menial tasks, he would do it. After all, he had watched countless maids and stewards do the very same things for him at the castle. He did not want to mess up and have his run of good luck ruined by punishment.

“And this,” Arthur said, once again leading the younger man to his private hall and to a door he hadn’t yet opened. It was directly across from the mysterious one he was never shown. “will be your room. I want you close by when I need you.” He stepped inside and Alfred was quick to follow, taking it in with a perplexed expression. 

“I get my own room?” He asked, confused. If he were a servant, shouldn’t he be expected to sleep in the worst room possible? Not that this one compared to his bedroom back home, but it wasn’t that bad either. It was a bit cramped, with a small bed shoved in one corner and a mediocre nightstand with only a couple drawers. The only real pop of color in it at all was the blue of the ocean that sparkled out of the round window, the rest was simply the wood that made up the rest of the ship. 

“I already told you, I need you close by when I need you. What’s the point in having a servant if I have to walk across the entire damn ship to get you?” Arthur replied dryly.

Fair point.

“Gee, this is a nice surprise. Thanks, Cap.” The wheat blonde smiled at Arthur who snorted in response. 

“Don’t think I made this room just for you. You aren’t the first sap to be under my boot.”

“You had different help before me? What happened to them?” Alfred asked before he thought better of it.

The pirate allowed a smirk to cross his face before letting his hand slowly slide up one of Alfred’s. He marveled in the way the younger boy caught his breath from it. “He disappointed me.” The Brit explained simply, keeping his eyes on Alfred’s face so he could watch the warmth grow in his cheeks the longer his fingers glided along the skin of his arm. “I do not take well to being disappointed, so he had to be replaced. Lucky for me, here you come along to ensure my needs are fulfilled in his absence.” He pushed his arm upward, tracing back up the taller man’s arm and towards his neck. Gently, he grazed it with the pads of his fingers before across his jaw. His voice lowered as he watched Alfred’s reaction to his touch. “Do not fear...he landed a fair price.”

At that, Alfred whipped around to face him with concerned eyes, forcing Arthur's hand to remove itself from his face. “What? He ‘disappointed’ you and so you sold him?” He was flabbergasted at the thought. Would Arthur do that to him? 

Arthur laughed at the bold reaction, one large eyebrow quirking upwards. “Well, yes. Of course I did. If he did not fulfill his duties to my desire he may as well have given me some sort of profit.” The man said as if it were common sense. And to a pirate, he supposed, it was.

Alfred couldn’t stop his face from turning white. From the way Arthur looked at him in satisfaction, he was certain he noticed his concern. 

“Oh, love, don’t fret so much.” The shaggy haired pirate stepped closer and roughly grabbed onto his arms, effectively pinning him against a wall. His eyes roamed him up and down with something Alfred could only call hunger. It made him shutter. “I’m certain you will be much more satisfactory.” Little by little his fingers uncurled themselves from the man before him, until finally he was released. The captain stepped back to admire the flushed expression on his captive’s face and the way his body betrayed him as it shivered ever so slightly. “Don’t disappoint me, dear Alfred.” He laughed.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

It had been three weeks since then and Alfred had been quick to get into the habit of bringing Arthur his food when he requested it, though he found it odd that he usually asked for a lot more food than Alfred would have expected. For a small man, Arthur must eat a lot, though he always shooed Alfred away shortly after receiving his meal so he never did get to see where it all went. Other than that, his duties involved cleaning his private rooms and just generally being told what to do. It was not at all what he expected from life on a pirate ship but he wasn’t about to complain about that. 

When Arthur didn’t require him to be right by his side, usually during instances of concentrated study or planning, Alfred was instructed to help out on the dock so he would be close by. Arthur had demanded that he ‘not get too comfortable’ after all, so he was allowed little leisure time when the pirate didn’t need him.

This was one such time, so Alfred was busying himself on the dock, ignoring the obvious stares he was being given by other crew members. He stood up and stretched, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat off his forehead when he heard a new voice he found quite surprising. 

“You look familiar.” 

Alfred whirled around, catching himself before he let out a gasp at the person that stood lazily in front of him. 

It was a child who couldn’t have been much older than twelve, leaning on a crate behind him and was watching him with carefree interest. He was a striking mirror image of Arthur, only varying slightly in hair and eye color. But the resemblance was apparent nonetheless and the boy apparently found his confused gawking humorous since he started to laugh directly at him without trying to hide it. 

“Gee, Mister, do you always make faces like that?” The boy held a large smile on his face as he said it, amused at Alfred’s shock. “I heard my brother caught some crazy guy trying to get on to the ship, but I didn’t think anybody would be that stupid to actually try that. I bet that had Arthur laughing for hours afterwards.” The smaller blonde rolled onto the crate, watching Alfred upside down. “What’s your name again?”

“Uh...my name is Alfred.” He responded slowly. He had never heard of Captain Kirkland having a younger brother before and he had yet to see him on the ship despite a week having passed. Where had he been hiding all this time? The boat was ginormous, sure, but certainly he would have been able to notice a child in a sea of pirates.

“Um, hello? Earth to Alfred?” The prince shook his head to regain his bearing as small fingers waved in front of his face. Arthur’s younger brother was now standing in front of him, jumping to wave his hand in front of his face. “You space out too much, what are you even thinking about? Don’t let my brother catch you daydreaming, he always says slackers get sacrificed to the sea god.” The kid laughed at that as if it were a silly joke, but it only made Alfred pale slightly. Something told him that wasn’t too far from the truth.

While he had the child in front of him, he might as well sate his curiosity. “You’re Arthur’s brother? I didn’t know he had any siblings.” He said honestly. Did the castle know about him? How did they not? “What’s your name?” 

The boy grinned again and put his hands on his hips, it reminded Alfred of how Arthur did that when he was giving him a cheeky comment. “My name’s Peter, and of course I’m Arthur’s brother. I thought you were from near the castle? Isn’t everyone there supposed to be obsessed with my brother and know everything about him or something?”

“Well...I guess you could say that. But I’ve never heard of you before, sorry.” Alfred almost felt bad at the way Peter’s face hung in disappointment at that. “I-I mean, I’m sure the really important people know all about you though. After all, you must be one tough pirate to put up with your brother all the time.” He tried to save the boy’s ego, which did not go unrewarded with another big smile. It did leave him wondering though, did his parents know about Peter? And if they did, why didn’t he? Alfred had little time left to ponder when he heard a much more familiar voice ring through the air. 

“Peter!” Arthur yelled, brows aimed downward in frustration as he climbed the stairs down to the dock. “What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be resting.” The captain was quick to storm up to them, but instead of cowering, Peter just groaned in response.

“I’m bored! I’ve been in my room for over a week!” The younger Kirkland complained adamantly, glaring at his brother as he knelt down in front of him.

“Peter,” The Brit’s voice was softer than Alfred had ever heard before. It was calm and his words were laced in concern. “I’m sorry. I know you’re bored, but you are unwell. You need to rest a bit longer.”

Now that he mentioned it, Alfred hadn’t noticed before, but he was right. He had been so caught up in his own surprise of seeing a mini-Arthur that he hadn’t even noticed that the boy looked a little sickly, his skin was a bit grey and he even had some dark circles growing under his big, blue eyes. 

His condition did not seem to faze Peter one bit. “You keep saying that but it never changes! You promised me I could get off the ship last time we docked and you changed your mind just at the last second. That isn’t fair at all!” The younger complained loudly, but Alfred watched in amazement as Arthur’s worried expression did not change to anger at being yelled at. If anything, those green eyes grew more remorseful with each word.

“I know, I know. But your condition worsened before we landed, I couldn’t have predicted that.” Arthur countered, gently putting his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “I promise, if you’re still doing as well as you are now by the time we get there, I will let you off the ship at our next destination. We should be there in just a couple days, so it isn’t much longer, alright?”

Peter’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, most likely because Arthur’s last promise of getting off the ship had been betrayed. Still, the younger boy relaxed a little and agreed. 

“Good, now I’ll let you stay out just an hour more. When that’s up, Gilbert is going to take you back to your room. Understand?” Arthur told him, standing up to his full height now that his brother was more consoled. The young blonde nodded, not about to pass up an opportunity to stay an extra hour out, and if he was lucky, he could boss everyone on deck around with Gilbert. “Good.”

After a brief exchange of words with who Alfred could only assume was Gilbert, the pale, red-eyed man he saw barking orders on deck a few weeks before, the British Captain turned his gaze back to him. “Alfred, follow me.” His voice no longer wrapped with sweet worry and it returned to his normal demeanor. 

The prince was quick to follow, abandoning what he had been doing on the docks in favor of trailing after Arthur back towards his private hall.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

Alfred followed Arthur to what he had dubbed his ‘throne room’, though Arthur insisted it was simply a study, he must know of its powerful disposition and the effect it had on anyone who saw it. There would be no other reason the man would decorate it with past victories if he didn’t want it to be seen as a reminder of his position as captain. 

Those thoughts were long discarded when he heard Arthur tell him to sit, which he promptly did. 

“Be completely honest with me, what did you and Peter discuss?” The blonde pirate asked him, sitting across the desk from him. He eyed him carefully, clearly letting him know he would catch him in a lie if he told one.

“What? You’re monitoring your brother’s conversations too? Isn’t that a little extreme?” Alfred raised an eyebrow, what did Arthur care after all? It wasn’t like he was plotting a mutiny with his brother. 

“What I find issue with concerning my brother’s well being is not really your problem, is it? Maybe I just don’t think you’re a very good role model for him to be around.” Arthur leaned his chin on his palm, elbow resting on the desk between them as he smirked over at the other man.

Alfred snorted at that. “Yeah, _I’m_ the bad role model, says the guy who kidnapped me.”

“I did no such thing. In fact, I distinctly remember hearing you say that I saved your life. Now, you’re simply repaying the debt.” Arthur corrected cheekily.

Alfred openly laughed at that, the sound bouncing off the walls and swirling around them. “I didn’t take you for a joker, Cap. You seemed more like the serious and brooding type.”

The sound of Alfred’s loud laughter caused Arthur to blink, not expecting such a boisterous reaction. “Heh, yes, well I can’t be ‘brooding’ all the time, can I?” Arthur retorted before he thought too much about how he actually didn’t mind the sound of Alfred’s thundering laughter. “But I’m afraid I am quite serious, I need to know what you said to Peter and what he told you.”

“I mean, we didn’t really say much at all, you showed up pretty soon after he started talking to me.” Alfred explained with a shrug. Though it wasn’t much of an answer, he really didn’t think anything they talked about had much relevance. Well, except one thing. “I didn’t even know you had a brother. I’ve never heard anyone mention him before but he’s been here on the ship this whole time? How’s that even possible?”

It was Arthur’s turn to let out a short laugh. “It’s possible because that’s exactly how I want it. The last thing I need is your royal shit parade to get involved with my brother again.” The word slipped his mouth before he could stop it and though he tried desperately to wish it back, he knew Alfred had heard it when he gave him a perplexed stare. 

“What do you mean ‘again’? I just told you, no one near the castle has ever even mentioned Peter, so the royal family couldn’t possibly know about him.” Alfred reasoned with both Arthur and himself. Surely his parents would tell him if his future husband had a sibling. After all, marrying Arthur would make Peter his brother-in-law and thus, part of the family too. As hopeful as it was, Alfred didn’t hate the idea of having a kid around.

The joking air had been discarded and Arthur frowned lowly. “Drop it, go back to your room. I shouldn’t need you for the rest of the night.”

“What? But it’s hardly even dinner time. I still need to bring you your food.” He didn’t exactly want to get stuck sitting in his room with nothing to do for hours either. Besides, there was something here he wanted to unravel. “If there’s something wrong, you can tell me. I might be able to help if you’ll just let me.”

“There you go again with your fucking help. Is it that hard to understand that I don’t need or want any help from you? Now, shut the hell up and just do what I say before I throw you back in The Hole.” Arthur threatened.

Alfred, as much as he didn’t want to, could taste the sour mood and it made him shut his mouth. He slowly stood up, watching Arthur glare to the side instead of directly at him for once. That was reason enough for concern. He took in a deep breath, looking at the man who was both his rightful queen and his worst nightmare. Or, rather, what should be his worst nightmare but Alfred couldn’t find it in his heart to call him that. As he paused to look at Arthur, his brows clumped together in worry that felt so natural he couldn’t help himself. 

“Goodnight...Arthur.” He spoke quietly, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the captain to return to his room as ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit slow, sorry about that! But I promise the pace picks up real soon ^^


	6. Calm Before the Storm

Two days passed with Alfred not willing to bring up what Arthur had meant about Peter. He did his duties, brought Arthur his meals, and learned that all that extra food had actually been going to Peter whose room was the mysterious one across the hall from his own. He had even been allowed on a couple occasions to bring the younger Kirkland brother his food directly, though the exchange was brief, Alfred thought Peter was a pretty funny kid.

It didn’t take long to see that they were growing closer and closer to land, just like Arthur had promised. The sight was a comforting one, after being stuck in the middle of the ocean for so long. The thought of actually setting his feet on solid ground was exciting for Alfred and it showed on his face as he knocked on Arthur’s study door.

“Come in.”

The young prince opened the door and stepped inside. “What’d you want to talk to me about?” He could only assume Arthur wanted to explain to him the horrible things he would do to him if he tried to run away. Not that Alfred had been planning on it, he was trying to get _to_ Arthur, after all, not away from him.

“Sit down, I need to talk to you.”

Alfred did as he was told, but before his queen could continue, he smiled at him sweetly. “Aw, Cap, if you think I’m going to run away the second we dock then there’s no need to worry. I already told you a million times, I’m only here for you.”

The older man gave him an unimpressed stare before shuffling beneath his desk, fishing for something under it. “Yes, as you’ve told me many times before. And just as many, I’ve reminded you that you are a complete looney.” He ignored the jolt in his chest hearing Alfred laugh openly at that, and instead pulled out what he had been looking for. It was a dagger, but its blade was ornate and well decorated. It was obviously expensive. “This is for you, I can’t have you running around out there with no protection. You won’t be any use to me if you get killed.” 

Alfred picked up the small blade and turned it around in his hand, eyeing it over carefully. It didn’t look Spadian, maybe it was from the Hearts kingdom? Either way, it was probably stolen. There was something else about it though that he couldn’t quite place. “I appreciate you thinking of me, Cap. But where exactly are we going that you think I’ll need this?” He asked. Not that he minded having a little something on him. Even here on the ship some of the other crew members gave him blatant, wanting looks. Perhaps being ‘The Spadian Golden Boy’ wasn’t as much of a blessing as he thought. He shook those concerns away when he heard Arthur shift in his chair.

“We are going to a harbor named The King’s Grave.” Arthur explained, noticing the way the name made Alfred’s smile falter. He ignored it and continued. “It is a respite for many sailors, including pirates. Most outside of the community would call it disgusting for inviting the likes of us, but I suppose we offer them a thrill that is unmatched...and the coin we throw their way certainly doesn’t hurt. It also acts as a trading grounds of sorts. All kinds of illegal trafficking happen there, out in the open, making it the best place to stock up on supplies...and allow my men to enjoy themselves with full depravity.” The Brit drummed his fingers on the desk, a habit Alfred had picked up on quickly. He found it endearing.

“What’s that have to do with a name like The King’s Grave?” The taller man asked blankly.

One of Arthur’s large eyebrows lifted at the question, probably wondering why the name of all things was at the top of Alfred’s worries instead of all the other dubious things he had just told him. “It’s a joke, or an attempt at one. The King’s Grave is a place completely devoid of royal interference, despite being such a popular port. The king, with all his endless wealth and power, cannot touch it because us _low lives_ don’t want him to. It is where his power ends, where his rule dies.” Arthur told him simply, noticing that somehow that explanation seemed to actually comfort Alfred for some reason. “What did you expect? Did you think some giant execution happened where we cut off some king’s head or something?” He chuckled.

Alfred’s face warmed into a light pink as Arthur laughed at him. “No! It was just a strange name and I wanted to know more about it.” He answered, starting to push the blade back into the sheath that accompanied it.

As he did this, Arthur composed himself and grabbed his hand from across the table to stop him. “Hold on,” The Brit motioned for Alfred to bring the dagger back out and the prince silently did as he was told. “This is no normal dagger. I’ve put an enchantment on it so that you may use it to break most magical obstacles. At The King’s Grave, there are more than just pirates and sailors. There are countless other people, many of whom are mages that stay there because they were thrown out of their homes for what they can do.” The blonde warned. “You need to be able to fight not only enemies on a physical level but a magical one as well. An enchanted weapon will give you a chance at doing that.”

Alfred stared at Arthur with wide eyes. _He_ enchanted a dagger? He had had his suspicions that the other man dabbled in the arcane arts but to enforce a physical weapon with magical power? That was no small task. 

Even their own army lacked many enchanted weapons. Most of them were unstable and only ended up backfiring on its user when deployed. Only a select few were actually usable and they were carefully developed by teams of trusted, regally-employed mages. 

“You seem surprised.” Arthur noted.

“Well, yeah! You enchanted a dagger? For me?” Alfred still couldn’t believe it. “You’re really that good with magic? I’ve never heard anyone mention that before.”

Arthur’s mouth twitched into a small grin, allowing Alfred to calm down from this apparently baffling news. “You didn’t know I use magic and you also didn’t know I had a brother. It’s almost as if all those ghost stories you heard at the capital didn’t tell you everything, little about me.” He watched Alfred’s face turn a light shade of pink at that and it made him chuckle.

The prince was quick to recover from his embarrassment and replaced it with bright enthusiasm. “Okay, okay, I get it. Stop relying on the stories. That’s why I’m here!” He beamed. “I can’t believe you know how to enchant weapons, that’s amazing! What other kinds of magic do you know?”

Arthur leaned back in his chair and hummed. “I know lots of magic.” He answered simply. “But that isn’t the matter at hand, is it? That dagger will help you if you need it and I must ensure you are prepared. I am taking Peter out into town and I need you to accompany us.”

“What, like your bodyguard?” 

Arthur didn’t like that word very much, it made him sound incapable of protecting himself or Peter. But, in a sense, that is what he wanted. An extra layer of protection to ensure his brother remained unharmed in such a place. “Sort of. Peter seems to have taken a liking to you and I want you to help me keep an eye on him. Besides, I can’t have you running amuck either. I won’t be there to save you if you decide to follow some random pirate into an empty bedroom.” He smirked.

Alfred blushed again. “Hey, I’ve only ever followed you!”

“I’m flattered.” Arthur kicked his feet up onto his desk, keeping his eyes on Alfred. “Tell you what, if you do a good job helping me with Peter, I will allow you the night to have a bit of fun. Sound good?” 

Alfred nodded. Though he wasn’t planning on taking residence in a brothel any time soon, he was excited to stretch his legs on actual land. 

“Good. We will dock soon, so be prepared.”

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

As Alfred turned his head every which way, trying to get a feel of the place they had landed, he realized Arthur really hadn’t been kidding. The town was fit snugly between the ocean and large cliffs, looming over them like they could swallow them at any moment. He could see along the shore an endless number of ships and boats already docked, and the place was crawling with all sorts of people that looked like they could rip his head clean off. A wave of panic rushed into him. Would any of them recognize him? He had been lucky that Arthur hadn’t, and if anyone on his crew did, they apparently didn’t say anything to him about it. But here? There were so many people willing to cut a throat for a simple coin. He was certain there could be a pretty ransom on him if he were caught. 

“Alfred.” 

The prince nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand press against his back, but relaxed when he saw it was only Arthur coming up behind him off the ship. Beside him, Peter was grinning ear to ear at his opportunity to explore.

“Stop staring and come on.” The Brit told him with a frown and began walking off the dock and between the people swarming the beach. He made sure to keep close to Peter, who for once didn’t try to argue with him and kept pace with his brother. 

Alfred did his best to keep up as well, trailing Arthur until they made it to the little buildings that made up the town. To his surprise, a lot of them were actually quite normal. Of course many were also obvious ‘tourist’ attractions, but most of those more 'pirate -centered' businesses sat comfortably at the edge of the beach where their patrons would come through. The deeper they walked into the town itself, the more it almost didn’t feel like a lawless playground for criminals and runaways. Almost.

“Here, Peter, go on inside.” Arthur opened the door to a small building and allowed his brother to go in first. “Alfred, come on, quick lagging behind.”

The taller man apologized and ran to meet Arthur where he was standing with the door open, walking inside behind him to see Peter pressing his face against some glass. It was only then that Alfred realized they were in a bakery. 

“Arthur! I want this one, oh! And one of these!” The blue-eyed boy pointed, pressing his finger against the glass each time. 

The older Brit nodded and beckoned the man behind the counter to get the ones Peter wanted, stuffing them neatly into a bag and awaiting further directions. Arthur also picked out a couple things for himself, eyeing the pastries with a soft hum. Then, his gaze shifted to Alfred, whose mouth looked like it would be drooling if it weren’t sealed shut. Shit, why did he have to feel a jolt in his chest at that pathetic face? 

“Well...I suppose I can spare enough coin to allow you to get one thing. But only one.” He said sternly to the man beside him.

“Huh? Me?” Alfred’s attention was cut off from the sweets when he heard Arthur speak, and found those green eyes staring up at him expectantly. 

“Of course you, idiot. I’m not talking to the damn air.” The shorter blonde scowled, but it did little to deter the excitement that crossed Alfred’s face.

“Oh, seriously? Then I’ll take that one, if you don’t mind.” Pointing in much the same way Peter had and the baker was quick to scoop it up, not at all minding a few more coins.

Arthur paid the man behind the counter and took the bag, sparing one of the treats to Peter as they walked and, and under the scrutiny of puppy dog eyes, forfeited Alfred’s to him as well. 

They paced around the town a few more hours, allowing Peter to get his fill of freedom until the sky began to turn orange. The younger Kirkland brother seemed to enjoy being off the boat and even more so that Alfred accompanied them. Being stuck with Arthur felt like he was being baby sat and he hated it, but Alfred acted more like a friend. The secret royal made him laugh with stupid jokes, and he swore he saw his brother crack a few, small smiles at some of them when he thought no one was looking. Alfred had even promised to show him how to play a new card game when they were back on the ocean after Peter found a deck in a shop. He hoped that the tall blonde stuck around for a long time if he kept being this entertaining.

As night began to fall over them, Arthur returned his brother to the ship. He was glad that they managed to escape any sort of issues and that he had been able to keep his promise to him. Pirate or no, he did not want to lie to the one person he had left.


	7. Look What You Started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mathias is aph Denmark  
> Berwald is aph Sweden  
> Tino is aph Finland  
> Their characters are based off the official Nordic Ghost Pirate designs from the Halloween episode.

After Peter was comfortably back in the ship, Arthur was quick to turn to Alfred with a grin. 

“Well, well, you did better than expected today. You didn’t even need to use that dagger I gave you after all.” The Brit told him as the two of them stepped back onto the docks. The sky was dark now but the town was still alive with light and people shuffling through its veins never seemed to slow.

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck and let out a small laugh. 

“I guess not.” He was glad no one recognized him while they were out, but now Arthur was looking at him expectantly. “What?”

“What do you mean what? I graciously offered you a night of freedom and you don’t seem too excited.” The captain responded, an air of curiosity around him. “In fact, you’re still following me even after I told you you can go enjoy yourself.” He enjoyed the way Alfred’s face warmed.

“Ah, I guess that’s true.” He replied but his pace never faltered from Arthur’s. “Still, I think I’d rather stick by you, if that’s alright, Cap.”

Arthur pondered at the request for a moment before answering with a shrug. “I don’t suppose it would hurt. You really are a strange one, you know?” Most people weren’t exactly clamoring at the chance to keep him company, after all. “Do what you want, I’m going to get some drinks in me.” 

With that, Alfred followed Arthur into a scene that was almost familiar. It was a bar crowded with pirates and sinners to the brim. Somehow, the smaller man managed to squeeze his way to the bar and order himself some liquor. Alfred wasn’t too far behind him and leaned on the counter.

“Again, not going to order anything?” Arthur asked, bringing his own drink to his lips.

Alfred laughed lightly at that and shrugged. “You don’t give me coin, Cap. What am I supposed to pay with?” He was a servant, a prisoner, not a crew mate. He didn’t get paid and he had already recklessly given all his royal money to the fisherman who helped him catch Arthur’s ship.

Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a boisterous voice bellowing over the crowd.

“Oh, ho,ho look who it is! Could it be? The one and only _Spadian bitch_.” The voice cackled.

Alfred watched Arthur visibly slunk, his good mood instantly soured by hearing this loud voice. 

“Shit.” He mumbled into his glass, quickly downing the rest of it. He was going to need it.

Alfred looked towards the source and saw a group of men shuffling towards them. The one yelling led them. He held a big grin on his face, but something about it felt off to Alfred. His blonde hair was spiked dramatically upwards and he had a black eye patch over his right eye. He looked somewhat familiar. Judging by the getup he was wearing, he assumed he was another wanted pirate captain. 

Following behind him were two men. 

One was impressively tall, he must nearly be the size of the Club’s King. But his face was stern and unmoving. The man beside him was much shorter and almost cute, in a way. His round face was curved into a gentle smile. 

The one with the eyepatch strolled right up to Arthur, baring his teeth with a wolfish expression. “It _is_ you, Captain Kirkland! How delicious.” 

“Mathias.” Arthur growled, glaring into his now empty glass. His knuckles a warning shade of white as he gripped it so hard Alfred feared he would break it in his very grasp.

This ‘Mathias’ didn’t look deterred at all by the Brit’s caution as he continued. “You haven’t gone running to the castle doors yet to get fucked silly by your new, royal plaything?” he asked boldly, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “I’m shocked. You could have it so easy, sitting on your ass all day just for having a pretty mark on your back. Then again, he probably wouldn’t even want to see it, would he? He’d probably be too disgusted thinking about how many men have already--”

Arthur shifted in his seat, swiveling towards Mathias with his brows cast down in fury. But before he could strangle the other blonde, he was beaten to it as a swift hand reached out and grabbed the Dane instead.

Alfred, for all his silence, was fuming. His normally tanned face was reddened by his anger and his teeth gritted together in an enraged scowl. “Shut the fuck up!” He yelled, half blocking Arthur from view as he pushed the other pirate backwards and away from him. His fist was interwoven with the fabric of Mathias’s shirt, forcing his back against the hard counter of the bar, threatening to hold him down while he beat into him if he uttered another word. “Who the hell are you to talk to Arthur like that?”

“Arthur?” Mathias seemed unaffected by the dangerous position he was currently in, only curling his smile upward more. “You must be going soft, allowing your men to address you so informally. Maybe it really is time for you to retire.” He laughed, feeling the hand bundled in his shirt shake as a result.

Alfred was livid. He shook with the desire to knock this captain’s lights out right then and there. It only made his eye twitch in aggravation when the man in his grasp started to laugh loudly. 

“Why the hell are you laughing so hard?” Alfred asked through gritted teeth.

The spiky haired pirate opened one of his eyes to look up at the blonde in front of him, his gaze dark and curious. “Why shouldn’t I be laughing? You look so serious and for what? To defend the Spade kingdom’s biggest whore? That’s all he is! A marriage arranged by The Goddess herself and yet he still can’t sit his ass down to marry the guy who can give him literally _anything_. He’d still prefer to run around and gorge himself on every sin imaginable. And here you stand defending him as if he were a saint?” A rough hand flew up and grabbed onto Alfred’s wrist, squeezing it so tightly it made his grip waver. 

It was Mathias’s, and the grinning pirate used his other hand to pull Alfred even closer to his face. “Besides,” he whispered toothily. “If Arthur won’t go himself, that only means I can get the reward money when I beat his head in and drag his limp body to the castle myself.” He laughed again and Alfred couldn’t take the sound anymore.

“You fucker!” The prince raised his free fist to deliver a blow to Mathias’s face, but was stopped by large hands grabbing him from behind and ripping him off the other man. He was thrown to the floor, only to be shadowed by the tall pirate he saw before. “Get the hell out of my way!” He threatened. Maybe this wasn’t his wisest idea, after all, the more eyes on him meant the more chances he had to be recognized. But that fear was only a speck in the corner of his mind when this protective anger took hold of him.

He was about to make a lunge for the stoic blonde, before a different figure came up beside him and kicked him back to the ground. 

“I’m really sorry about this. Can’t we all just relax?” It was the cute man this time, obviously remorseful about his part in this. Still, he was only defending his captain. His violet eyes were almost pleading. “Please don’t make us kill you.”

Alfred tried to recompose himself, having been forcefully thrown to the floor and then kicked in the chest made his body ache. He groaned as he rolled over, attempting to gather himself long enough to make it back on his feet. “Like hell you will.” He spat at the ground, too stubborn to just let these guys talk shit about Arthur and get away with it.

The young prince stumbled his way to his feet and faced the two blondes that were blocking Mathias from view. “Get out of my way,” he told them, only for neither of them to budge. “Fine.” He made fists with his hands once more and went to deck the taller man with a quick blow, but the smaller male was faster and landed a surprisingly strong punch to his stomach instead. 

Alfred doubled over, holding his gut from the impact, but was acutely aware that the two forms were coming towards him now. He went to ready himself so he wouldn’t be caught off guard, but a different body stepped between them before he had the chance.

“Stop!” Arthur yelled the command, stepping between Alfred and his opponents with a quick swipe of his hand. It glowed a faint green color and the two stopped immediately, as if paralyzed. 

It took a few moments for Alfred to register his thoughts and then he finally realized Arthur was using magic. He went to say something but the Brit’s face snapped back towards him, absolutely fuming. “Get the fuck out of here right now.” It was not a request.

“What? Arthur, I am not leaving you!” 

Then, it hit him. It was swift and unexpected, Arthur’s fist connected to his cheek with just a simple turn of his heel.

“Alfred, as your captain, you _will_ do as I tell you. Now go.”

Alfred held onto his cheek, swearing he tasted blood in his mouth from the impact. The glare Arthur was giving him told him that the Brit would not hesitate to do it again if he was denied. Still, Alfred was not keen on leaving and wanted to stay. How was he supposed to just up and walk away and leave Arthur here to fight these guys?

“I will be right behind you.”

The prince blinked, noticing the way Arthur’s eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. But they also held truth, and it bid him to listen. 

Slowly, Alfred straightened himself and backed up, still watching carefully but retreating towards the door. It was difficult to do so, since so many bodies were busy watching the spectacle and many looked like they thirst for more bloodshed than they had gotten. But eventually he made it into the cool, night air. Then, only a few moments later, Arthur appeared from the doorway as well.

“Arthur,” he went to check on him, but the smaller man shot him a murderous look and he started to storm off back towards the ship.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

Alfred tried to get Arthur to turn around and talk to him but the captain refused to even look at him.

“Come on, just talk to me. I’m sorry!” The taller man was in hot pursuit and accompanied the angry man all the way back to his quarters. 

Arthur tried to slam the door to his study in his face, but Alfred caught it with his foot and pushed his way in after him instead. 

“Arthur!” The boy almost sounded like he was pleading now, but it did little to calm the fury in the pirate’s eyes. “Why are you so upset at me? I was trying to defend you.” The guy obviously bothered Arthur in some way just judging by his reaction when he heard his voice, so he didn’t know why he was so against him beating the absolute snot out of him.

“Do you even have any idea who that was?” Arthur snapped back, throwing his arms in the air to emphasize his point. 

Alfred frowned harder and shook his head. “No, and I don’t really care. I couldn’t let him talk about you like that!”

“Alfred, I am a pirate. I’m not some flower for you to protect at the slightest breeze.” The Brit was pacing around his ‘throne room’, his arms flying upwards and crossing dramatically as he stomped around. “I certainly didn’t ask you to pick a fight with Mathias fucking Køhler! Do you have any idea how badly that would have gone for you if I had not stepped in? You’d be dead...if you were lucky!”

“And? What does that even matter to you?” Alfred countered.

“It matters because I’ve hardly the time or the energy to replace a servant less than two weeks into his service,” The Brit shouted back. “And I really would prefer not to have to deal with Mathias on my ass when we leave dock.” He would not put it past the Dane to follow them out to sea and start a battle. As much as Arthur reveled in combat, he knew Mathias nor his crew were to be underestimated.

“You wouldn’t have to worry about him following us if you would’ve let me kill him.” The prince argued. Not that he actually wanted to murder the man, but in the heat of the moment he couldn’t say he didn’t want to smash his face a few times.

Arthur scoffed at that, a mocking laugh escaping his lips at the idea. “Sure, you were doing a fantastic job -- getting your ass kicked by his right hand men.” Berwald and Tino were two of the most feared pirates in the ocean. Their reputations as skilled fighters preceded them, and they weren’t even captains! “They would’ve put you down in an instant.”

“Then why didn’t you just let them, if I’m such an inconvenience to you when all I wanted to do was stick up for you.”

The Brit rolled his eyes and let another dark chuckle escape his lips. “If letting you die meant getting some damn peace and quiet then maybe I should have.” He tried not to notice the flash of hurt that crossed the younger man’s face for just a second as he spoke. “I don’t understand what your deal is anyway, I really don’t! What is this morbid fascination you have with, what did he call me? Oh yes, of course, The Spadian bitch.”

“Don’t call yourself that!” Alfred told him, grabbing his arms in an attempt to get him to stop his pacing and listen.

“Why the hell not? Isn’t that all I am to you pompous pricks in the capital?” He barked back, glaring daggers straight back into Alfred’s eyes. It was true and he knew it. He was not Arthur to them, he was either a merciless pirate or just a pretty figure to model into perfect obedience. They wanted their queen, he simply wanted a choice.

Alfred stared down at Arthur with an angry frown, gripping his arms tighter in frustration. Looking at Arthur like this so close, he wondered how he never noticed the light freckles that were pressed against his nose and his cheeks. Or the way his eyes had different shades of greens, creating a forest of life in just two small orbs. Even his lips, that were currently pressed downward in a deep scowl, invited him in and he couldn’t stop himself from accepting their offer.


	8. My Beautiful Captain (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW!
> 
> This chapter is pretty much just nsfw content. If that isn't your jam, feel free to skip this chapter! You won't be missing any major plot points :)

Arthur was not prepared for Alfred to lean down in the midst of an argument and steal his mouth in a rough kiss. His eyes widened and if he hadn’t been held by his arms, he might’ve fallen from surprise. He felt himself being pushed, forcing him to walk backwards until he hit his desk and was pushed against it. He took a dazed gasp of air when his lips were finally released, bringing his hands up to curl into Alfred’s wheat blonde hair.

The taller man now had him sitting on the edge of the desk, threatening to knock off all the important documents in favor of creating a place to kiss his neck. Arthur almost shuttered at the attention his throat and jaw were being given and if the way Alfred was biting was any indication, he was certain he would have more than his fair share of bruises come morning. He shifted his legs to be more comfortable, wrapping them around his prisoner’s waist and drawing him closer until their hips were rubbing together. He could practically feel Alfred smirk against his neck.

“You sure got quiet quick.” Alfred breathed hotly against his pierced ear, migrating from his neck to biting to his earlobe instead and pulling it with his teeth.

“Fuck off.” Arthur’s voice was low with lustful mirth, his insult held little bite to it. His body betrayed him when Alfred brought his hands to run along his thighs and hips, leaning into the touches for more.

Alfred laughed softly, back to leaving a trail of affection across his queen’s neck. His hands roamed upwards and under the other man’s shirt, feeling the soft skin and where scars from past battles raised against his fingers. He didn’t mind them in the least, thinking to himself that they only added to the mystery and beauty that was Arthur. 

Growing bolder now that he wasn’t being shoved away, he pushed his hips forward and rolled them against Arthur’s, savoring the wanting sound that exited his lover’s mouth as he did so. “Shit, you sound good, Artie.” He whispered to him, his hands making quick work of Arthur’s shirt until it was completely off his body.

Now, Alfred stood up straight and looked at the body in front of him. Arthur really was a marvel to behold. His skin was pale and surprisingly soft to the touch, at least in some places. His hips curved out perfectly in a way that made it easy to hold them in his hands and the pink flush that overtook his face left Alfred wanting to kiss every single faint freckle one at a time. 

“Why are you staring at me like that? Just get on with it already.” 

His blue eyes fluttered back up to look at Arthur’s, amused to see his impatience as he waited for more. He couldn’t help but chuckle again. “Sorry, darling. I just couldn’t help but look.” He brushed his lips against Arthur’s cheek, giving it a few kisses before trailing back towards his lips and pushing his tongue in. 

He could feel Arthur grasping at his clothing, pulling him ever closer against him and Alfred indulged him by moving his hips again to give him some friction. His efforts did not go unrewarded as more of those lovely sounds spilled out of Arthur and into his own mouth as they kissed. This was all it took for him to wrap his arms around the smaller man’s waist and lift him off the desk, careful to hold him close as he maneuvered instead towards the door that led directly to the captain’s large bedroom.

Alfred hadn’t been in there yet, but had seen it through the open door a few times whenever he was in there helping Arthur. It was an impressive room to be sure, decorated with fine silks and delicate designs. It was a room fitting someone as powerful and wonderful as Arthur.

Easily enough, Alfred had dropped Arthur softly onto the bed, not wasting a second to crawl over him and push their lips together once more. 

“Gods, you are gorgeous.” The prince mouthed softly when they separated for air, though the distance didn’t last long before they were intertwined again.

Arthur grinned between the kisses, tugging at the younger boy’s shirt, forcing them to part yet again in order to get it off. “Shut up.” But his words held no more anger and it was hard to hide his cocky smile from Alfred when he was pinned under him. Not that he really tried, anyway.

The Brit ran his hands up the tan arms and to his shoulders, taking his time and feeling the muscle that lay underneath. Alfred was almost shockingly strong. Even if it wasn’t obvious when he was clothed, now Arthur could literally feel it under his finger tips. He moved his hands to feel the other's back and pressed against it, pulling their faces together once more, and indulging himself on the feeling of the strength beneath his hands. 

Arthur gasped when he felt Alfred reach down and palm him through his trousers, taking in shaky breaths as the stimulation built in him. It didn’t help that the young prince was now kissing his way down his chest, spending his time on spots he noticed were particularly sensitive for Arthur. 

“I want to find all your sweet spots,” the pirate heard the other say against his skin, his hot breath beckoning him to pant softly. It surprised him. Most of his past lovers didn’t bother to go this slow, it was almost painful that Alfred was taking so much time. But by The Goddess and The Divine, if it didn’t feel _amazing._

“I’ll search out all the places that make you whine.” 

_Fuck!_ Did Alfred realize what he was doing? He must, otherwise he wouldn’t be grinning so confidently as he kissed down his body and to his stomach.

“My beautiful captain,” Alfred sang sweetly, crawling lower and lower until he got to the belt on Arthur’s pants. He made short work of unhooking it and pulling it off with a loud snap. He held the item with one hand and lifted one of Arthur’s legs onto his shoulder with another. He bit and left kisses on the inside of his thigh, distractingly sweet motions before he leaned forward and captured both the Brit’s wrists with one hand. The one still holding the belt looped the clothing around them, binding Arthur’s hands together and soon to the headboard. Now Arthur was bound to the bed by his wrists.

Alfred looked down at his handiwork with a smirk, taking in the way Arthur sputtered and tested the restraints. “That’s pay back for having your men tie me up.” He told him, cocking an eyebrow at the flustered glare his captain gave up at him. But, the smaller man made no motion to try and free himself, so Alfred felt it was pretty safe to assume he was alright with his current position. “Plus, I want to make sure you can’t try and stab me again while I fuck you into this mattress.” 

The words rolled off of Alfred’s tongue so easily that Arthur shuddered, not usually one to be at a loss for words, but something about the way Alfred was looking down at him made him swallow his protests. Not that he wanted this to end, by the Divine if anything he wanted the younger man to make well good on his promises.

“If you plan on doing anything except talk then do it already.” The captain smirked, using one leg to push against Alfred and the growth in his pants.

“You’re so impatient,” The prince grinned, reaching up to give small kisses around Arthur’s mouth while using his hands to spread his legs apart, easily stopping his assault on his trousers. He nestled neatly between the shorter blonde’s thighs, making painfully slow ruts against him as he continued to pepper his face with affection. 

His kisses were anything but innocent though, as his movements began to drive Arthur crazy. He could easily tell by the way the man groaned under him and leaned up to meet his shallow thrusts, trying desperately to get just a little more friction.

“I didn’t expect you to be so needy, Artie.” Alfred laughed into his neck, continuing to rock his hips against the other’s.

“Sod off, git.” Arthur snapped back, only causing the younger man to laugh a little more.

This slow torture went on for a short time longer, all the while Arthur becoming unwound and desperate. Willing to ease the smaller man’s needs, Alfred snaked his hand down and dragged the pants off of his pale legs, along with his under clothes. He threw the captain’s clothing to the floor with little care, now taking his time to explore his newly exposed legs. He had already figured out a few spots Arthur liked, but they were sure to be even more sensitive now that there was no clothing separating their skin. He decided to test this theory, bringing his hands to the curve of Arthur’s hips and squeezing, watching with warm eyes at the way it made his captain curve his back and let out a low moan. He moved down, taking his time to graze his fingers against the inside of his thighs and towards his calves, then back up again. 

“F-Fuck, Alfred.” Arthur was watching his every move, wondering at the way Alfred took in his body as if it were a piece of fine art in a museum. 

The sound of his name made Alfred perk up, his hands still moving, but now watching the way Arthur’s chest rose with a panting rhythm. He really was coming undone. How was he supposed to hurry up when the view in front of him was this amazing?

“I know, darling.” He leaned down again to push his lips against Arthur’s, surprised when he felt his bottom lip being bitten and pulled. When he collected his thoughts, it made him grin knowing Arthur wasn’t _completely_ docile. “I can’t do anything without prepping you first, where do you keep your oils?” He felt it was fairly safe to assume Arthur had some, he was a pirate after all, and pirates did tend to be rather promiscuous.

He was right too, when Arthur told him it was in the top draw of his nightstand. Alfred reached over, ruffling through the various items until he found a small vial of pink liquid. He opened it to the distinct scent of roses and gave Arthur a questioning smirk.

“Shut the hell up, I happen to enjoy roses.” He defended. 

Did he now? Alfred would have to keep that in mind for later.

Back to the matter at hand, the taller male poured some of the cool liquid on his fingers, rubbing them together a bit to warm it up. “Are you ready?” He asked, circling Arthur with his finger, but wanting to be certain he would be alright.

“Hurry the fuck up before I do it myself.” The Brit complained and Alfred happily obliged, shoving one finger in and testing the waters by moving it.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t mind watching that.” He replied, enjoying the way Arthur’s face went a deep shade of red. Alfred continued his movements, eventually adding second and then eventually a third finger, pushing them in and out and spreading them. He could feel Arthur’s legs shaking where they lay on both his sides, until his whole body jolted with one particularly well-aimed thrust.

“G-Gods, _Alfred._ ” 

Oh sweet, Goddess divine, help him. At his captain’s sudden outburst, Alfred realized what he had hit and made it his duty to aim straight for it with each following thrust.

The blissful feeling built up in the pit of Arthur’s core, swirling in pleasure and threatening to tip over at any moment. He wasn’t fully aware of it but he was certain his mouth was chanting Alfred’s name like it depended on it, muffled only slightly by the pillow he tried to bury his face into but couldn’t fully in this position. 

Alfred couldn’t help but stare at the display before him, wanting to remember this moment for years to come. To remember the way Arthur looked and felt and the way he said his name so perfectly it was as if he were born to say it. He nearly couldn’t bring himself to stop but if this was going to go further, he had to. He reluctantly pulled his slickened fingers out and watched Arthur breathe quickly against the pillow, letting him catch his breath as he instead turned to use the liquid on himself. He pulled his neglected part out of his pants by pulling them down just enough to maneuver it. Even in this moment, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew better than to let the royal mark on his hip show. If Arthur saw it he would be done for in an instant.

With himself prepped and Arthur more than so, he leaned forward once more to plant loving kisses on Arthur’s face. He wiped the excess oil off his fingers with the bed sheet before grabbing the pale man’s hips, carefully flipping him over and onto his knees. Like this, Alfred had full view of Arthur’s back and he used one hand to caress it gently, running it up and down it to sooth him into this new position. 

“Alfred.” 

The sound of his name in that husky voice made him shutter. His fingers pressed gingerly against the dark mark between the Brit’s shoulder blades. 

“Get on with it...”

He nodded even though he knew Arthur couldn’t see him and lined himself up, careful about going too quickly. Despite everything, he didn’t want to hurt Arthur in any way. He waited patiently when it felt like Arthur needed a second to adjust, but the pirate was quick to urge him on by pushing his hips back into him. He obliged happily and pushed himself further until he was completely sheathed into the smaller man.

Hands ran up and down lightly freckled sides, letting him adjust to him for a moment before he gently began to rock his hips back and forth. The sound that came out of Arthur as he did so was the sweetest noise he had ever heard, and he was going to ensure he made much more.

Steadily he picked up his pace, grabbing the slender hips for support as they rocked backwards to meet him. With each new trust Arthur was becoming more and more vocal, only heightened when Alfred made it a point to fish out that sweet spot and once he did, he aimed for it mercilessly. With his escalating movements, the headboard started to hit against the wall, more than making it obvious what was happening to anyone who was close enough to hear. That is, if the sounds Arthur was making wasn’t enough. 

Unfortunately for him, his captain was trying to muffle his embarrassment in the pillows, spilling out his vocal pleasure into soft cotton. 

Now, that simply wouldn’t do.

Without slowing, Alfred leaned over Arthur, one hand holding his body up so he could continue his quick pace in and out of him. The other, however, tightened around the shaggy blonde’s hair and pulled his face out of the pillow. 

“Don’t do that, Artie. I want to hear you.” He nibbled on the pirate’s neck, feeling the vibrations of his moans in his throat. 

With his head forced back and away from the sheets, Arthur stared dazed at the banging headboard in front of him. His bound hands pulled against it in any attempt to find purchase, clutching desperately at the sheets and clenching them into his fists. His mouth hung open, unable to silence the cries that came out of it in the form of Alfred’s name and many, many profanities. 

“That’s right, I love hearing you say my name like that.” Alfred praised tenderly, leaving a deep bite mark on the other man’s shoulder. He could tell his captain wouldn’t last much longer but honestly, neither would he. He did notice though that Arthur seemed to react to his words in the best ways possible. “Let me hear you. Let your whole crew hear you. Hell, I want this entire damn harbor to know what I’m doing to you right now. Let them know no one else could ever make you feel this good.” 

He applauded Arthur happily as his words only seemed to garner louder and louder responses out of the man below him, until he was fully screaming his name out into the darkness. 

Knowing he was well close to his limit, Alfred only thrust faster, soon feeling Arthur tighten around him and let out a strangled cry as he finished. Alfred wasn’t long after, riding out Arthur’s climax by bringing out his own, which only came a few seconds later when his movements became more erratic until it was finally over. 

He released the blonde’s hair and allowed him to face plant back into the pillows, panting over him and not yet willing to move from his spot. As he attempted to catch his breath, he looked over Arthur’s frame once more. He really was lovely, there was no denying it. No matter the stories and no matter the stern way he treated him at times, Arthur was absolutely and purely beautiful in every way.

Alfred moved, pushing himself closer to Arthur in what he hoped was not uncomfortable. But he couldn’t help himself as he gently brushed his lips against the dark mark on his back, kissing it lightly and wanting nothing but to be able to give Arthur everything he could ever want.


	9. The Storm

The next morning, Alfred woke up to an empty bed. He sat up groggily and wiped some sleep from his eyes, noticing that he was alone in the room now. Where had Arthur gone? He had hoped he could talk to him but it seemed the captain had other plans.

After he managed to chase some of the tiredness away, he took a look round, for the first time being able to properly take in Arthur’s bedroom. It was as nice as he expected it to be, spacious and warm. Alfred figured Arthur must really enjoy reading because there were even more books in here, he’d have to keep that in mind. Books and roses couldn’t be too hard to remember, right? He wondered how Arthur would like the royal library in the castle or their giant garden. He would have to show them to him once he convinced him to come back with him.

Slowly, he made his way out of the bed and found his clothing, pulling them on and exiting the room. Arthur wasn’t in his connected study either, making the prince frown a little. 

He continued on until he was out on the deck. For the most part the port was still and there were only a few crew members lazily standing around chatting on the ship’s surface. Glancing around for a mess of shaggy, blonde hair he could see that the harbor was much more quiet than it had been yesterday. He chalked it up to it being early in the morning and most people were probably still asleep with hangovers. 

“Move it there, come on. Put your backs into it! Do you want to starve out at sea?” 

Alfred turned towards the familiar voice and found Arthur coming back onto the ship from the dock. He was barking orders at a few crew mates, instructing them to bring crates and barrels back onto the ship and store it away. Quickly, he jogged over and stood beside him. His presence did not go unnoticed, but the Brit gave him little consideration.

“There you are, finally up? Good, stop standing there with your thumb up your ass and help bring these supplies onto the ship.” Arthur instructed, pointing at the men who busied themselves back and forth.

Alfred had to stop his mouth from dropping as he stared at Arthur, waiting for him to laugh and tell him he was only joking. How could he really stand there and act as if last night had never happened? He wasn’t asking for a miracle or even for special treatment, but to not even acknowledge what they’d done? The thought sat heavy in Alfred's stomach as he patted away to do as he was told.

After they were finished loading the supplies it was already past noon and the area was becoming more lively. It didn’t take long before Alfred was rushing back to Arthur’s side though. He couldn’t help but look expectantly at the captain as he came to stand beside him, waiting for some sort of recognition over what they had done together. His eyes searching for any kind of answer to his many, silent questions.

Arthur glanced over to the younger boy that came up beside him, recognizing the wanting face he was making and scoffed. “Stop looking at me like a kicked dog,” he waved his hand dismissively in an attempt to get Alfred to change his demeanor, but it only made the taller blonde frown deeper. “What the hell is the matter with you, anyway?”

“You weren’t there this morning.” Alfred complained under his breath. Despite his disappointment, he was vaguely aware that he at least shouldn’t talk too loudly about what he had done to his captain in front of the other crew members. 

Arthur’s smirk ticked at the corner of his mouth. “And? Some of us have work to do to make sure your ass stays alive when we are back at sea. Someone has to ensure we stay stocked up and take advantage of our time here.” He was meticulous about keeping track of supplies and never lost an opportunity to get more. As much of a respite The King’s Grave was for men like his, he still needed to keep the ship prepared. “You’re lucky I let you sleep in, I didn’t need you at the time so I didn’t bother waking you.”

Alfred resisted the urge to reach out and grab Arthur, to pull him close against his chest and breathe in his hair. His hands tingled with the memory of feeling his porcelain skin under his fingers and they yearned to feel it again. Why was he standing here falling apart with want but Arthur was seemingly indifferent? He had always been told, the union of the king and queen was supposed to be something glorious. Weren’t they connected now, not only by a divine decree but on a physical and emotion level as well? Did Arthur really not feel it?

“Arthur--”

“Captain.” He was corrected shortly.

“Captain...can I talk to you?” Alfred muttered.

“I do believe that you are talking to me now, lad.” The pirate responded, keeping his green eyes fixed carefully on the work being done around the deck. “Just get on with it already if you’re going to say something.”

“I can’t!” Alfred didn’t want to sound hurt but his voice betrayed him. “I need to do it...in private. Cap, please.”

Finally, Arthur turned his gaze over to face him and searched his form. His emerald eyes shone with an emotion Alfred couldn’t pinpoint as they traveled across his body. For what felt like an eternity, he sighed in relief when Arthur relented and nodded.

“Fine. Just make this quick.” 

For once, Alfred led the way back to the blonde’s ‘throne room’ and shut the door once they were both inside. 

“You’re really not going to say anything about last night?” He asked, exasperated as he turned to face the other man. It did little to comfort him when Arthur just crossed his arms and cocked his eyebrow.

“What about last night? Please, you’re acting like a love sick dame.” Arthur laughed at him cynically. Alfred was less than amused.

“You really don’t feel anything?” The beating in his chest quickened to an almost painful pace as he watched Arthur, hoping for any sign he was not the only one going through this. 

“Alfred, what on earth am I supposed to be feeling?” Arthur shrugged his shoulders, displaying his hands in a carefree manner as he spoke. “It was a nice shag, and I’ll admit you had me a bit sore this morning. But you’re acting as if there’s more to it than that.”

“There is! At least for me. Do you really not think so?” It felt like his heart was breaking. His chest twisted painfully, almost like it was scrunching up in a similar way Arthur’s face was.

“No. I told you before, you are here to fulfill my needs. That includes being a good fuck.” He was less amused now, his face morphing into one of annoyance. “Don’t tell me you actually thought it meant something?” He was a pirate, he wasn’t looking to settle down and play domestic. He wanted satisfaction in any way he could get it, money, power, pleasure. It was all he craved.

Alfred stared wide-eyed at Arthur, watching him with what could only be described as a sort of desperate hope. Had he really gone too far this time? Arthur Kirkland was the Spade Kingdom’s most feared pirate and a terror on the seas. He pillaged and destroyed wherever he went with no sense of remorse. Alfred couldn’t help but think that that trail of destruction had landed straight into his chest.

“I...I don’t know what I thought, I just...” His blue eyes cast to the ground under their feet. He thought that Arthur liked him, at least a little bit. Of all the horrible things he thought the Brit would do to him, he hadn’t done a single one. He wasn’t the evil pirate he had thought him to be, he would even gamble to say he thought Arthur was _nice_ at certain points, if in his own way.

Now was not one of those times.

The Brit shook his head and laughed quietly. “Don’t ruin a good thing by developing feelings.” He warned, so gentle that it was almost like he was speaking to himself. “Listen, I’ll tell you what. Go get some fresh air. I don’t need you for the moment and it won’t do good for morale if you stand around moping. Just be back before sun down so I know you didn’t get killed.”

Alfred didn’t feel like going out but the drowning pressure he felt by being surrounded by everything that made him think of Arthur was becoming too much. “Yeah...okay.” He relented, leaving Arthur behind in his study and walking towards the docks. 

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

Walking back into town was suddenly both less exciting and a huge relief. He felt his shoulders relax more the farther away he got from the ship but his mind refused to let go of a certain, fiery Brit. He groaned and kept trudging through the sea of people, not really heading anywhere in particular. He still had no money so drinking himself into a stupor wasn’t an option and he wasn't interested in much else at the moment.

Maybe he could simply take a quiet walk through the forest to calm his nerves. He could see them on the other side of town and it surrounded the area in a way that almost made it look peaceful. 

He was distracted from his thoughts when he heard some men yelling not too far away. He glanced over and spotted a crowd forming, walking over so he could see what all the fuss was about. He managed to find a spot in the crowd that he could see in and was surprised to see a fight happening in what looked like a makeshift ring. The people around him were cheering them on and placing bets on who they thought would pull through as the winner.

It didn’t take Alfred long to notice that one of the men in the ring was the really tall, blonde pirate from last night. He felt his blood boil at the sight, if he was here then surely that damned Captain Mathias wouldn’t be skulking around too far either.

With one quick movement, the Swede had his opponent on the ground and with a good, few punches to the face, he was out.

“Berwald Oxenstierna wins!” Somewhere an announcer praised the man who stood up, face stern as ever even through all the blood on it. 

An obnoxious laugh echoed through the mass of bodies and Alfred suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, gripping him tightly. 

“Way to go, Ber! Take the winnings and have yourself a break, big fella.” Mathias cheered beside him so loudly Alfred thought he might burst his eardrums. The Dane pirate then peered over at him, a large smile plastered on his face, but his uncovered eye was anything but innocent. “And you, my good friend, are up!” 

Without warning, the spiky-haired blonde shoved Alfred between the crowd of people and onto the soiled dirt of the fighting ring. “You wanted a fight so bad, here’s your chance!”

“Are you insane?” Alfred yelled back after he collected his confused mind, picking himself off the dirt. His hands curled into fists as he glared Mathias down, ignoring the crowd around them for now. “I don’t want to fight!”

“Aw, don’t be like that!” The captain grinned. “Think of all the money you’ll get if you win!”

Alfred was not convinced. “And if I lose?” He asked cautiously.

Mathias’s grin curled wider, almost painful to look at as he started to laugh. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?” He pointed and against his better judgement, Alfred’s eyes followed. 

He caught sight of the loser of the last fight being dragged away, a trail of crimson blood being drawn on the dirt like some morbid paintbrush. There was no telling if he was dead or just passed out, but with the way his face was beaten in, Alfred wouldn’t be surprised if it were the former. 

“Sorry, not interested.” He spat back. He was not about to be roped into his bastard’s schemes. “Unless you’re going to bring your ass down here to fight, it’s no deal.”

He heard several boo’s from the crowd around them and some even called him a coward. Not that he cared much, he was too determined to make Mathias eat his words. 

The Dane only laughed again and shook his head. “No, no, not me. But him,” he pointed again, but this time with his thumb to his side where the cute man from last night stood patiently. “He’s going to be your reaper.” He said darkly, silently commanding the shorter male to exit the crowd and face Alfred in the ring.

“Like hell!” Alfred shouted. Despite the other man being shorter and not nearly as large, he knew just how hard he could punch. He could still feel the soreness in his gut from the one he had been given in the bar the night before. He was not clamoring for a reminder. Besides, he didn’t want to fight anyone except Mathias, but the coward was too busy hiding behind his crew men.

“Heh, that’s a real shame. I guess I was right about Kirkland going soft. He really brought a coward like you onto his ship?” Again that annoying laugh filled the air, but this time it was accompanied by others in the group around them. “That’s good to know. A weak crew means a weak captain, and that means I can make good on my little...promise last night.”

Alfred was seeing red, certain his face was flared up in anger. “You dirty bastard, how dare you--” Here he stood again threatening Arthur. As much as Alfred wanted his queen to be by his side, he would rather die than have Mathias’s slimy hands deliver Arthur to him. He went to lunge for the rival captain, but was stopped dead in his tracks by a swift blow to the head.

In his fury he had completely forgotten the other, smaller blonde was there who stopped him before he could get to Mathias. Alfred stumbled backwards but managed to keep his fists raised defensively. 

“Sorry about this,” The man said as he stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his path to his captain. “If it’s okay, I’d like to tell you my name. It’s Tino, and you’re Alfred, right?” He had been certain that was the name Arthur yelled.

“Yeah, that’s me. Look, no offense, but I really don’t want to fight you.” Alfred told him blankly, pacing to the side in an attempt to get a better angle on Mathias. He was mirrored, however, and the smaller blonde kept his path blocked. “But I would like to beat the shit out of your captain, so could you move?”

“I can’t. Really, I’m sorry about this.” Tino replied, raising his own fists and stepping forward. “I really hope I don’t kill you on accident.” He heard the Finn say softly just before he came charging at him.

Now that he was more aware, Alfred managed to dodge the punch that was thrown at him. “Stop bullshitting me! If you don’t want to fight me then quit it!” He yelled over the sounds of the crowd’s, their voices loud with blood lust. He dodged another attack and backed off. He didn’t want to fight Tino, the guy didn’t even want to fight him!

“Captain paid a lot of money in bets, so I have to win. You understand.” The smaller man reasoned. 

No, Alfred most certainly did not understand! Did these people really get their kicks off watching two people beat each other to death?

He didn’t see a way out of this, he couldn’t run because he was surrounded by onlookers. He had a feeling Tino would chase him down anyway. For a small guy, he sure did pack a hell of a punch. He was obviously much stronger than he looked. Thankfully, Alfred was no stranger to fighting. As the future king, he had been trained tediously both in the strategy of battle and in the physical skills of it. He was not one to be underestimated himself and he would see to it that Mathias learned that.

“Fine.” He growled, seeing no end to this besides beating Tino head on and making a dash for Mathias straight after.

With his mind made up, the prince went for his own attack, resulting in the two of them mixed together in a tangle of limbs. Punches connected and kicks were blown, blood spilling to mix with the crimson already drying on the dirt from the previous match. 

“Ah hah! That a boy, Tino! Knock his teeth in!” 

One particularly sharp blow to his head left Alfred’s ears ringing but he was still able to make out Mathias’s nosy outbursts. He managed to grab Tino’s wrist when his fist came flying towards him, pulling him roughly and landing his own punch straight into the smaller man’s stomach.

Tino’s knees buckled at the impact, letting out an involuntary wheeze. He would’ve fallen straight for the ground if Alfred hadn’t grabbed him and nearly thrown him across the make-shift ring. He didn’t hesitate to turn around, abandoning his fight with Tino in favor of tackling Mathias instead. The crowd seemed to like this exciting turn of events and only egged him on as he ran for the spiky haired captain.

He still had the dagger, he remembered. It was hilted at his side. His hand reached down to grab it, unsheathing it and gripping it so hard his knuckles grew white in fury. He would make sure to wipe that shit eating grin off of the Dane’s face once and for all.

“Oh! He brought a weapon, he’s playing dirty! He really is a pirate after all!” He heard Mathias yell and the crowd awarded his unfair tactics with bellowing applause.

Only a few steps closer he would have had Mathias in his grasp, but a rough tug on the back of his shirt forced him backwards and onto the ground instead. 

“Ugh!” Alfred let out a painful groan at the impact, dropping his dagger to the ground and out of reach. He hardly had enough time to compose himself before a body was on top of him and his breathing was interrupted by a hand around his throat. Then, a fist pulled back and connected, repeatedly smashing into his face. 

The pressure of one hand around his throat was not enough to stop his breathing completely, but it made him lightheaded and dazed. Tino was sitting on his chest, raising his free hand over and over to collide with his face. Alfred raised his own hands in an attempt to block some of the punches, but the tightness around his neck proved too distracting. He couldn't think properly like this. 

He could feel himself slipping quickly into darkness. He wouldn’t last much longer like this, but failed to have the coordination to stop it with so little air coming through or the stunning blows he was receiving to his head. His eyes grew dim, seeing little more than the blur of Tino’s form pinning him down and the red that covered him, which he could only assume was his own blood.

“No!” 

His mind fluttered desperately. He couldn’t let Arthur down like this. He couldn’t let a bastard like Mathias win! But he also couldn’t move, no matter how much as he willed it. He was rapidly losing the strength to even hold his hands out in a feeble attempt to shield himself. 

“Get off of him!”

Wait. 

That wasn’t his thoughts.

That was someone’s voice.

“You bastard! Get off!”

Alfred let out an audible gasp when his throat was released, rolling to his side and coughing so hard he swore he tasted blood. Or maybe that was just from all the punches he’d been dealt. It took him time to recover, but he was vaguely aware of a body near him, crouching beside him in an almost shielding way. 

When he finally looked up, his vision was still somewhat blurred, but he saw the trembling figure of Peter glaring darkly above him. He had his abandoned dagger in his small hands, pointing it threateningly at anyone and everyone who moved.

“Back off! I’ll kill you, don’t test me!” Peter promised, his grip not wavering though Alfred could see the slight shiver in his hands. The boy was terrified. 

Alfred wiped some blood from his eyes and looked towards the main source of Peter’s glare. 

Tino was standing back, his hands up cautiously and his eyes wide, watching the young boy with careful eyes. It didn’t look so much like the Finn was afraid of Peter, even with the knife Alfred was certain the man could easily get it away from him and take him down. No, it was something else. Tino looked like he was petrified at the idea that _he_ would hurt _Peter_ instead.

There were a few tense moments, the crowd becoming antsy and unfulfilled now that their fight had been interrupted. Still, no one moved except for Alfred as he tried to collect himself.

“Well? What the hell are you waiting for, Tino? Kill him!” Mathias was the first to break the silence.

“W-What?” Tino’s voice cracked in horror. “Mathias, this is a child!”

“He is no child, he is a pirate! And so are you so you better damn act like it!” The Dane countered, the agitation at being talked back to apparent in his voice. “That’s that Spadian bitch’s brother, you couldn’t ask for a better opportunity to finally rid ourselves of that bastard Kirkland.” With Peter dead, Arthur would soon crumble into dust under his boot. His kid brother was his one, true weakness and Mathias knew this well. “You will do as I say, Tino.”

The Finn’s violet eyes begged silently, unable to will himself to move towards the pair in front of him. Alfred was still trying to recover and would be easy enough to finish off, and even though Peter held a knife, it could be easily taken from him and the rest would be history. But he couldn’t do it, not to a kid who had yet to even live. He swallowed and shook his head, knowing very well the price his defiance would get him later.

He practically heard Mathias growl and finally, he stepped into the ring himself. “Fine, I’ll do it myself then. Go back to the ship, that's an order." Tino hesitated but reluctantly averted his eyes and slunk away out of sight. "I’d like to watch the little brat’s eyes go dim anyway.” Mathias grinned, not hesitating despite the fact Peter turned his attention on him instead, brandishing the knife in his direction. It was cute, how the kid was shaking in fear but still tried to act brave. He was going to love watching that facade of courage drown in terror.

“Stay back!” The younger Brit warned loudly, taking a swing at Mathias when he was close enough. Unfortunately, he missed and the captain landed a swift kick to his stomach, forcing him to fly backwards. A painful gasp ruptured from his throat as he was thrown to the dirt.

“Now, now, wait your turn. I’ll get to you soon.” Mathias flashed a toothy grin watching as the younger Kirkland brother curled into himself, his mouth hanging open with agonizing rasps. He reveled in watching it, but knew he needed to ensure Alfred stayed down long enough for him to truly enjoy himself with his rival’s kin. 

The prince’s eyes widened as he watched Peter be kicked and wounded. “You bastard!” Alfred managed to gasp out, rolling to his knees and tried to stand up only to be kicked down again.

“Shut the hell up and stay down before you make yourself bleed out. There’s no point in fighting if I don’t get to see you die just because you’re stubborn.” Mathias laughed at him, lifting his foot again and landing more sharp blows to anywhere on Alfred’s body he could reach.

The wheat blonde could do little to stop the attacks on his body, the combination of Tino and Mathias’s blows making him start to slip out of consciousness once more. He tried to grab the captain’s leg as he swung it at him, only to hear him laugh more and shove his face into the dirt with his heel.

“There we go, you won’t be much of a threat now, will you? Be good and don’t bleed out until I get back.” The spiky-haired pirate told him smugly, loving the way Alfred’s head lulled to the side, unable to hold it up anymore. 

Then, he turned his attention back to Peter, still writhing a short distance away. Without warning he strolled back over to the teary boy, watching him for a moment before using his foot to roll him onto his back. Their eyes met for only a moment before Mathias slammed his boot onto the younger male’s throat. He held it there, digging into his neck with such force it made Peter wheeze, gasping for any air he could get and grabbing at the leg that trapped him there.

Alfred, somehow, was still able to keep himself awake. His head pounded and his vision was blurry, hardly able to make out any of the bodies that surrounded them. Instead, they pooled together in a mess of colors. But he didn’t need his eyes to tell him Peter was hurting, he could hear his painful choking well enough to know what was happening. “N-No!” He struggled, rolling onto his side again and spitting crimson out of his mouth. “S...Stop!” He managed to get to his knees, but lost balance and fell over to his side once more. But he was stubborn and his will to protect Peter was stronger than any pain he was feeling. Again, he stumbled messily to his knees and dragged his feet forward to stand. He hunched over, holding the ground for support for a few moments before tripping his way forwards in an attempt to get closer to Peter and Mathias. He only made it two steps before his knees gave out under him and he fell once more with a loud grunt.

He heard that fucking laugh again, mocking him as it mixed with Peter’s desperate will to survive.

“Don’t you know when to give up?” He scorned. “Why would you want to save a little _freak_ like this anyway? Huh?” He emphasized his point by digging his heel deeper into Peter’s throat, earning him a gut-wrenching gurgle. 

“Stop it!” Alfred nearly screamed it, and he would have if his voice had allowed it after being choked for so long. 

Again Mathias’s cackle filled the stiff air, but it had an even more vicious edge to it. It rung of blood-lust and violence. 

“Peter!”

A new voice broke through the obnoxious laughter, so shrill and desperately hateful it made Alfred’s catch his already painful breath. His blue eyes widened at the sound, almost fearful to look towards its source. But, he couldn’t help his gaze fall to the side, catching sight of what had to be the most terrifying human being he had ever seen in his life.

Arthur stood there, having made his way through the crowd of people still gathered around them to watch. His green eyes were wide but furious, his brows were furrowed so low it strained his temples. His teeth were bared, lips curling to expose them like a predator wild and blood stained from the hunt. He looked half deranged, like he would rip apart any person who came towards him.

But it wasn’t even this that made Alfred shiver. No, no, there was something else. The wind whipped against his skin, ice cold as it licked his open wounds with little mercy. The sensation made him hiss. The sudden weather change tangled his hair and clothing, drenching more of his blood across the spoiled arena. If he didn’t know better, he thought a tornado might rampage through the crowd and swallow them whole any moment. But no, that wasn’t it. Above him he could hear the thundering sound of the sky clapping dangerously, though no rain fell the peaceful blue turned a dark grey and shadowed them. Even still, as he watched with fear and awe as the sky changed before his very eyes, he noticed in the distance the rocking of the ships at port. They shifted precariously, threatening to tip and crash into the docks at any moment.

He also noticed the fear that struck the faces in the people around them, watching as they gasped and pointed at the sudden changes. 

“The gods! They’re angry!” He heard one shriek.

“Oh, sweet divines!” He recalled another voice. “What is it? A hurricane?”

Even Mathias had a spark of terror in his eyes and his foot lifted instinctively off of Peter’s throat, allowing him a sharp gasp of air.

All but one man stood in horror.

Arthur’s seething gaze never left Mathias for a moment, even as his hair and clothing whipped so violently in the wind he thought the smaller man might be whisked away in it like a paper in a storm. But he remained unfazed, planted firmly in the chaos as those around them dispersed in terror.

“Mathias!” The Brit screamed in fury, causing Alfred to flinch. The shaggy-haired captain took a step forward, and it was in that moment that the prince realized. This was not a natural storm. 

His mouth fell open as he watched, the wind dancing through Arthur’s already unruly hair, messing it up more and adding to his disturbing image. 

This chaos wasn’t happening around Arthur, it was coming _from_ him. 

Arthur was the storm.


	10. Raindrops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small warning for some graphic violence in this one, though its only a small portion!

“Arthur?” Alfred called out over the wind, struggling to keep himself awake due to the injuries he had been dealt. But he couldn’t allow himself to sleep now, not when he was witnessing something like this! 

He couldn’t believe his eyes, the magic coming from Arthur leached out into the air in an almost physical way. His very emotions were manipulating the weather around them dramatically. He had never seen anything like this before.

His calls were left unanswered as Arthur’s green glare was transfixed on the rival captain in front of him. By now, nearly the entire crowd had vanished, running from the wild winds and the threatening skies in favor of seeking shelter. 

Looking to Mathias, he could see his cocky grin had been replaced by some sense of fear. Alfred would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little satisfied by that. 

“Mathias.” The Brit growled. His words were surprisingly calm but the weight of them drug in the wind. The vile in them caused the spiky-haired blonde to flinch. “I’ve warned you before.” Arthur’s eyes almost glowed under the dark shadows of the clouds and his hand lifted to his side, gripping the sword that hung there with a silent threat. 

Finally, Mathias moved, stepping backwards and away from Peter who still wheezed painfully on the ground. “What the fuck, you’re a monster.” But his words didn’t seem to affect Arthur in the slightest. In fact, as the Dane moved away, Arthur lifted his other hand and that familiar, green glow encompassed it, stopping Mathias in his tracks. Alfred recognized it as the same spell he had used on Tino and Berwald in the bar, making escape impossible.

The Brit sucked his teeth, making a disapproving noise. “I’ve warned you,” The captain repeated before he revealed his weapon from his side, a long sword that shined with murderous desire. “If you ever hurt my brother, I would kill you. Lukas be damned, I will have your head on display for all to see!” 

Arthur didn’t even spare Alfred a glance as he stepped forward, his stride sure and focused as he moved straight towards Mathias. 

“But killing you will be too easy, I want to have a bit of fun first.” The Brit grinned widely, an expression Alfred had yet to see on the man’s face before. It was different than all the taunting smirks he had thrown him before, this one was purely sadistic. It made Alfred cringe, fearing for himself even though it was never actually directed towards him. Maybe this was where all those horror stories came from. 

“How should I do it? Hm? Since you have such a knack for these things, surely you have some ideas.” Arthur’s sword drug across the dirt, causing a painful screeching noise to echo around them. It was disturbingly slow as he walked towards the terrified captain. “I want it to be oh, so slow. All the more amusing for me.”

Arthur ran a hand through his hair nonchalantly, as if he didn’t have a terror of the seas shivering in his boots before him. As if he weren’t going to murder a man in cold blood in the most brutal way he could think of.

“I could rip out your tongue first...yes, that sounds good. I am quite tired of hearing your loud voice.” The Brit smiled darkly, his finger tapping against his sword thoughtfully. “I’m certain the gods would not mind a bit of a blood sacrifice.” He mused, lifting his blade before he opened his mouth once more. 

This time, however, it was a melancholy parody of a national song. It was one Alfred knew by heart, as many in their kingdom did. It was supposed to be a song of pride and inspiration, to rally them together as one, but hearing it now from Arthur it felt more like a hymn to the dead.

_“Oh, sing of the goddess and her mercies,  
Hail, to the great kingdom Spades,”_

Arthur finally reached Mathias, curling his fingers into the collar of his shirt to pull him closer. His malicious smirk etching itself into the petrified captain’s memory.

_“Refuse the wicked and their curses,  
Strong be our king and queen until...their...graves.”_

Slowly, the shorter man brought the tip of his sword to pierce teasingly through the fabric of the Dane’s shirt, right above his stomach. Splitting it easily and a painful grunt was heard when the steel finally made its way to his flesh, gradually staining his ripped shirt with red.

Alfred could see Mathias wincing from the blade in his gut, but it didn’t seem like it was going deep enough to kill him. Just enough to hurt him without risking him bleeding out too quickly. 

The Brit’s hand moved from his collar to his chin grasping it between his fingers roughly. He forcefully turned it, eyeing his face from every direction, his gaze ever reflecting into the rival captain’s terrified eyes. “Yes, this’ll do. Don’t you think?” His British accent breathed out calmly.

Leisurely, he pulled the sword out of the other man’s gullet, earning him a pained and relieved groan. His ease was short lived, however, as instead Arthur brought the blade to his still gripped face. He maneuvered his hand slightly, forcing Mathias to open his mouth a bit and unlock his jaw.

“Please, do struggle a bit more. The more you thrash around the more blood you’ll spill.” Arthur told his captive, knowing fully well that with the spell he had put upon him, Mathias’s movements were severely limited to almost nothing. He couldn’t even speak like this. Still, he liked to imagine the Dane writhing under his fingers and begging for mercy.

The bloody steel was lifted to the rival captain's face, pushing past the skin of his cheek, between his teeth, and swiftly into his mouth from the side. Alfred could hear a gurgle, no doubt from the blood spilling into Mathias’s mouth from his pierced cheek. He had to force himself to look away to avoid hurling up any food still sitting in his stomach at the sight. It didn’t stop the noises he heard from scarring his ears though. This was not the Arthur he knew. But maybe this was the captain everyone so justly feared.

Still, the Brit kept a steady grasp on the gasping man’s face as he plunged his blade further and further into his mouth until he was certain he was cutting every inch of Mathias’s tongue and scraping his teeth.

Alfred did his best to ignore the sounds of agony coming from Mathias, whether he hated the bastard or not, this was not something he could watch. He wanted to punch his lights out, not turn him into some kind of bloody play thing. Instead of watching, the prince managed to climb onto his hands and knees, slowly but surely moving himself forward.

Peter was still lying on the dirt and he wasn’t moving, but Alfred was certain he could still see his small chest heaving up and down with breath. Despite this, he wanted to get to the boy and be there for him. Why the hell he had been down here in town unsupervised he had no idea, and to jump in between his fight! It was ridiculously ill-thought out. He supposed he was the same, though, after all he was the future king and he chose to abandon his life of fortune in favor of tracking down one of the kingdom’s most wanted pirates. 

After what was only a couple minutes but felt like hours to his scrapped palms and knees, he sat beside Peter and inspected him closer. His neck was bruising badly and he had several cuts across his body, but at least he looked relatively uninjured, all things considered. He could’ve ended up much, much worse. But regardless, the kid’s breathing was concerning. It was still heavy and thick, like he was forcing every particle of air into his lungs, even now that his throat was no longer being crushed under a boot. He needed medical attention soon.

As much as it hurt, Alfred slowly put his arms under Peter’s knees and his neck, doing his best to lift himself and the boy without falling over. If he could just make it back to the ship...he was certain there was at least one man on board who knew the art of medicine. Arthur seemed like the type of captain that would be that properly prepared.

He just had to force his legs to move and not collapse, which in his current state was much harder than he would have liked.

“Come on, Peter...you’re okay.” He whispered, encouraging the sleeping boy and himself to move. He was halfway on one knee and had the smaller blonde pulled carefully against his chest when a shadow engulfed them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Arthur’s voice was dark and unamused, having lost his sadistic grin, it was replaced with a deep frown as he looked down at them. The bloody sword that had been Mathias’s torture was now pointed directly at him instead. “Put him down.”

Alfred balked up at his captain in disbelief. Would he really turn his blade on him? He was trying to help! 

“Arthur, what the hell are you doing? Peter needs a doctor now.” The prince fought back, unmoving and refusing to put the younger boy down. “We have to get him back to your ship.”

“I said to _put him down_.” The Brit all but yelled at him, raising the sword above his head in a way that threatened to bring it down on top of Alfred if he didn’t comply. 

“Arthur! If we wait any longer Peter could die! What are you doing?” Alfred begged with any hint of reason still within Arthur while he was in this state of blood lust. A glance behind the furious blonde and he could see Mathias still standing there, eyes wide and watery, only now blood flowed freely from him between his lips and from the wound in his cheek.

“You will listen to me!” Arthur gripped his sword tighter and swung it, bringing it down hard enough to crack the prince’s skull in half. 

Alfred gasped, curling in on himself and instinctively gripping Peter closer, using his own body to shield him from the blow should Arthur miss and hit his brother by accident instead. 

For a few, eternally long seconds, Alfred wondered if he made the right choice coming here. He had wanted happiness, not only for himself but for his kingdom and even for Arthur. He had wished for a marriage of love and trust, he never wanted a union where he felt forced to be with someone he despised. Many monarchs wedded their marked other, but still had countless affairs with others. They were trapped in an emotionless bond, fueled only by hatred, or tolerance at best. 

Maybe he had been foolish, thinking he could convince Arthur to love him. Anyone he voiced this to would surely tell him so. But now, as he accepted his fate by his divinely betrothed’s hand, he couldn’t help but be at least a little grateful for what time he had been given with the grumpy captain. To learn, at least in some capacity, that he wasn’t as evil as everyone said. Even now, Alfred wouldn’t call him that. He had seen too much care, too much compassion, in his green eyes to ever say that. Even if those niceties were buried deep below a shell of anger and resentment for him, his family, and the mark they both bore together, Alfred knew Arthur wasn’t truly evil.

Somewhere in his thoughts he was certain he heard Peter make a pained noise, probably from being pulled against him so tightly. It was a gasp, almost like he was calling out Arthur’s name, but Alfred was certain he was hearing things. Peter had been knocked out cold only moments ago, there was no way he would wake up and realize what was happening so quickly.

He was quick to make his peace with the gods and silently begged them for a quick death. But, as he shielded Peter with his body, awaiting the pain that would surely pierce his body, he realized it had been too long. Where was it?

He slowly opened his eyes, which he had shut to block out the incoming sight of his demise. He carefully spared a hesitant glance upward, his blue eyes locking with a deep, remorseful green as Arthur stared back at him. His arm was still gripping the sword, merely inches away from splitting his brains into parts. But it was shaking now, as Arthur’s angry gaze had turned wide-eyed and sorrowful. 

“Oh my gods,” he heard the Brit whisper. He watched as the older blonde dropped the sword to the side, the metal clattering loudly against the dirt as he did so. Then, Arthur was on his knees in front of them, coming down to their level and shaking so violently Alfred feared the man would crumble at the slightest touch.

Then, it started to rain.

It was light at first, barely noticeable, but soon after the drops poured down to soak them. The wetness unfazed the older Brit as he reached forward, pulling at Alfred’s arms to reveal his younger brother curled up and breathing heavily. But breathing nonetheless. He let out a shaky sigh and gripped the arms harder, almost making Alfred wince in pain. Not that Arthur was squeezing him that tightly, but his entire body was banged up and the added pressure sent shivers of pain through his nerves.

“Captain?” 

Alfred called gently to the man in front of him, watching the strange way the Brit stared wide-eyed and, dare he say, scared at his brother still resting in his arms. It seemed like the entire world disappeared and the only thing Arthur could focus on was Peter.

Behind him, Alfred could see Mathias finally regaining his ability to move. His first reaction was to violently spit up all the blood pooling in his mouth, choking on it as if it had been suffocating him this entire time. And perhaps it had been. The other captain’s hands flew to his mouth and face, fingers dancing around in a panic as he stumbled off somewhere and into the distance.

Alfred barely cared he was getting away this time. His main focus now was Arthur, still unmoving and unresponsive no matter how many times he said his name.

Carefully, the prince shifted the boy in his arms so that Peter’s head was resting against his shoulder. He used his newly freed hand to reach out and gently touch his captain’s face, earning his first physical reaction when his green eyes darted back up to look in his. Alfred kept going, since Arthur wasn’t pulling away or trying to stab him, and gently cupped his palm against his cheek. His thumb caressed the Brit’s face slowly, just under one of his emerald eyes and brushed away some of the raindrops sliding down it. At least, Alfred would call them raindrops. He was certain a few of the wet trails down his face were from his own making, but he wasn't about to tell a pirate he was crying.

Now that he had his attention, he spoke up again. “Arthur...let’s get back to the ship. Peter needs a doctor.” He reminded, moving again in an attempt to stand up. 

Now, Arthur was quick to react, grabbing his sword and holstering it by his side before helping lift Alfred off the ground. “You’re hurt. Let me carry him.” He urged, stepping closer and snaking his own arms around his younger brother to take him.

Alfred didn’t protest and the added weight off his body helped tremendously. He would still be slow to walk, but he was less worried about falling now. In the corner of his eye he noticed his forgotten dagger and grabbed it. Then, he followed after Arthur as quickly as he could, thankful that the skies were letting up slightly. In fact, it was starting to feel like where they stepped was spared the weather completely. At this revelation, his blue eyes transfixed on the back of Arthur’s head, mesmerized. Arthur really was powerful.


	11. Take Your Pain

Getting back to the ship, the first thing the pirate did was take Peter out of the rain and back to his room. He gently laid his brother down on his bed and pulled off the boy’s soaked jacket and shoes so he wouldn’t be so wet. 

Alfred followed as quickly as he could manage, still weak from nearly being knocked out twice. Still, this was a hell of a lot better than being sliced in half by Arthur. After he reached the room, he saw the captain busying himself with tending to Peter’s basic needs of undress, which Alfred thought was smart on Arthur’s part. As hurt as he was and since he was apparently ailed by some sort of illness already, catching a sickness from being stuck in wet clothing was not idle for the young boy. 

The prince hung quietly by the door frame, ignoring his own pain in favor of watching Arthur move around the room. In a happier situation, he would have complimented the Brit in how perfectly he did literally everything and that he liked to watch him work. Then, those green eyes were on him again.

“Stay with him a moment,” Arthur told him and without another word, squeezed past him and out of the room.

Alfred didn’t think the older man would have wanted to leave Peter’s side for even a moment, but didn’t ask. He had little chance to considering how quickly Arthur had left the room anyway. Slowly, he pushed himself off the door frame he had been leaning against and stepped into the bedroom. 

By this point he was familiar with Peter’s room since he had come in here to bring him meals and sometimes he even sat and just talked to him. It was surprisingly easy to talk to the younger Kirkland despite their age difference, and Alfred assumed it was because he fancied having kids of his own one day.

Peter was still breathing heavily, but thankfully it hadn’t seemed to get worse on their way to the ship. Alfred slowly eased himself into the chair by a small, wooden desk and watched the sleeping boy with tired eyes. Despite not getting worse on the way back, Alfred feared that if he turned away for even a moment that Peter would stop breathing all together.

It wasn’t long before he could hear swift steps clacking on the wood floor out in the hallway and only moments later Arthur appeared back in the room. He dumped a few things into the desk Alfred was sitting by but paid him little mind as his hands started working.

Alfred wasn’t sure entirely what was happening but felt it best to not say a word. Instead, he opted to simply watch Arthur work diligently on his task. It didn’t take long to realize the Brit was creating some sort of potion, pooling together ingredients of herbs, liquids, and even ones Alfred couldn’t really recognize. He mixed them together in a small bowl, muttering to himself quietly at moments so softly Alfred couldn’t make out the words. Even so, he recognized the action as a sort of chant, no doubt a magical one to bestow upon the potion and give it an arcane benefit.

When the mixture was complete, Arthur carried the bowl to the bed and knelt on the floor beside it. Carefully, he lifted his brother’s sleeping head and put the bowl to his lips, slowly easing the potion into his mouth. Once he was sure Peter had had enough, he separated and was satisfied to watch his breathing start to ease a bit. It was still a little forced, but he sighed in relief nonetheless at the improvement.

“What was that? Did that heal him?” Alfred asked, eyebrows raised in amazement. Arthur hadn’t even needed a spellbook to tell him what to do! 

“No, but it helps with the pain.” The shorter man answered quietly, not wanting to wake his brother from his much needed rest. 

“Oh.” With not much else to say and realizing they probably shouldn’t spark a conversation here and now, Alfred closed his mouth once more to simply observe Arthur work.

After giving Peter the potion to help with his pain, Arthur gently brushed some hair out of his brother’s face. He looked down at him for a few moments in silence before reaching over him and lying one of his hands on his chest, above his heart. Again, Alfred heard him mutter something under his breath, but this time his hand glowed a dim green color. It was similar to when he had used that paralyzing spell before, but it wasn’t as bright or vivid. This time it was a relaxing color and it was easy to tell it was some sort of healing aid.

Now, Arthur spoke again, but more clearly this time. It was somewhere between a chant and a prayer.

“Gentle bringer of union,   
I beseech you.   
Hear me, divine goddess.”

Turning his glowing hand, Arthur lifted his other to reveal a small knife. He brought it slowly to the inside of his palm, still illuminated with a soft green. He pierced the skin there, allowing his blood to pool in his hand. Then, he dropped the knife in favor of digging in his shirt, easily pulling out a small necklace. Alfred recognized it as the goddess’s symbol.

Arthur placed the small jewelry in his palm, allowing it to press into his wound just slightly. The green glow shifted into a gentle pink, the color swirling around his bleeding hand like thick smoke. 

“May you accept this sacrifice  
Of unwavering bonds  
And lift from my beloved their suffering.”

The Brit stood like that for a few minutes, his eyes never wavering from the smaller form lying in front of him until he finally pulled his hand away as it stopped glowing. He wiped the blood away with a cloth and dropped it on the table with the rest of the discarded ingredients.

Alfred had a million questions circling in his head at the moment, but before he could speak, Arthur stopped him.

Without turning around to face the other man, the pirate spoke. 

“Go back to your room.” He told him, though the command was not forceful and sounded more like a simple request. 

Despite his questions, Alfred complied and hobbled his way across the hall. He was sure not to bring any pressure down on the parts of him that hurt the most as he sat on his small bed.

Occasionally he could hear small noises from across the hall and assumed it was Arthur caring to Peter or cleaning up his things. After a few minutes of sitting by himself, he noticed the absence of the sounds and decided there was no point in staying awake any longer. Slowly, he pulled his legs onto the bed and laid down, letting out a sore groan as he did so. He was in pain but it was bearable, at least for now. He only hoped it didn’t get worse in the next few days or he may not be able to move at all.

He wasn’t sure when but he eventually drifted off to sleep, rocked by the waves under them and the fatigue of fighting. He only awoke after he became vaguely aware of someone standing over him.

His eyes snapped open and he jerked back, causing his already stressed body to tense up in protest.

“Blimey, you’re awfully jumpy.” Arthur muttered, staring blankly at the panicked look on Alfred’s face. The Brit had been trying to get a better look at his wounds while he was asleep, but he guessed his presence didn’t go unnoticed too long. He sucked his teeth and stood up straight again and turned around.

Alfred’s back pressed against the wall, having jumped nearly out of his skin and away from whoever it had been near him while he slept. It took some time for his heart to stop pounding in his chest after he realized it was only Arthur. 

“W-What are you doing in here?” He asked, trying to relax. It was only then that he noticed Arthur had covered his bedside table with items similar to what he had brought in Peter’s.

“Hmm. What’s it look like? I came to help you.” Arthur answered. “I told you to go to your room, not pass out.” Though considering Alfred’s injuries and what he had sustained, it was a miracle he was able to stay awake as long as he did. “Here, drink this. It’ll ease some of the pain.” The Brit turned around and held out a bowl, filled with what looked like the same stuff he had given to Peter earlier. 

Now that his heart was starting to slow down and his body relaxed after realizing he wasn’t actually going to be murdered in his sleep, Alfred slumped dramatically. He was definitely more sore now that the adrenaline from the day was wearing off.

“Thanks...” The prince muttered, taking what he was given and bringing it to his lips. Instantly, he grimaced.

Arthur chuckled at the reaction and put his hands on his hips, waiting expectantly for Alfred to continue drinking despite the taste. “I never said it would be good. But it’ll help.” 

And it did. Alfred didn’t even have to wait very long, only a few seconds after finishing the potion, he could already feel some of the pain lifting from his body. It wasn’t a permanent fix, but it helped a lot for now.

“That’s amazing.” He noted, because it was. He was positively impressed with Arthur. However, as he looked up at the captain still just standing there, he couldn’t help but feel confused. “Why are you here?”

Arthur scoffed. “Are you daft? I just told you, I’m here to help you.”

Alfred only frowned at that. “That’s what I mean.” He replied. “Why?”

“What do you mean why? Do you not want my help?” Arthur was frowning now, mirroring Alfred’s confused expression.

“I didn’t say that. I just...” The taller blonde started, trying to figure it out himself as well. Something about Arthur being in here and helping him like this felt odd to him. “I figured you’d just tell me to sleep it off.” He concluded.

“Mn, I did think about that.” Arthur admitted, taking a moment to pace around the room with a thoughtful hum. Considering it was such a small space, he didn’t get very far before he had to turn around and come back. “But, you helped Peter. Despite everything that happened, you tried to keep him safe before anything else.”

“You mean despite you trying to kill me?” Alfred asked, noticing the way Arthur frowned deeper at that. 

“Despite that and the fact you were seriously injured yourself...and that you watched what I did to Mathias.”

“What’s that have to do with anything?”

Arthur’s frown raised and turned into another disbelieved laugh. “Surely you aren’t serious.” But when Alfred didn’t say anything, he knew he really was. The Brit shook his head and crossed his arms. “You’re saying you’re fine having watched me do what I did? After I mutilated a man right in front of you?”

“I can’t say I exactly liked it.” Alfred’s stomach turned just from imagining it. “Mathias was a jerk and I wanted to beat the shit out of him but what you did...” What Arthur did had been sadistic and cruel. It was horrifying. But, he didn’t want to say those words out loud, so the sentence hung unfinished in the stiff air.

But, the horror of it hadn’t been all that happened either.

“You completely changed the weather.” Alfred gasped as if that piece of information had completely been forgotten. Of course it hadn’t, but he had been too distracted until this point to really comprehend it. He still didn’t fully get it. “How the hell did you do that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Arthur’s frown was back, seemingly impatient and unamused. “It was just a strange coincidence is all.”

“What? No it wasn’t!” Alfred fought. He had seen it with his own eyes, Arthur had been the source of it all, the wind, the waves, the clouds. That had all been from Arthur.

“Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now?”

“I don’t care, I know what I saw.” Alfred argued, more stern than he would usually use with Arthur. He was almost surprised by the tone that came out of him, but Arthur didn’t give it much reaction. He supposed that was a good thing, otherwise he might’ve been in trouble for talking back like that.

“Think what you want.” Arthur went back to the items on the table, cleaning them up and organizing them to be collected more easily. 

Suddenly, the idea of Arthur leaving pulled at Alfred’s chest. 

“What was that thing you did to Peter earlier?” He asked quickly, both to stop the Brit from leaving and just because he was actually curious. “How’s your hand? That was some sort of spell, right?”

Arthur stopped what he was doing and looked down at his palm, now wrapped with bandages stained a dark crimson. “It was a spell to promote healing and to invoke the goddess.” He explained.

“But what was all that about unions and bonds? And why did you have to cut yourself? Shouldn’t a healing spell, you know, heal you not hurt you?” Alfred pondered, sitting up more now that his pain was subsiding a bit.

Arthur didn’t expect so many questions and he turned to glance at Alfred with a quizzical look. “The blood acts as a sacrifice, I suffer so Peter’s pain will end.” He told him. “It also represents us as family, our shared blood.” When Alfred looked confused, he felt compelled to elaborate. “It’s a specific spell, one that can only be used between people with a bond, like family. It's more powerful than any normal healing spell.”

“So...would it work on people who aren’t your family? Like friends or something?” Alfred asked.

Arthur’s response was a shake of his head. “No, that’s too superficial.” He said. “I mean a true bond. Family is easy, it’s a blood relation that binds us together.”

“Okay...what about partners? Married couples?” Alfred urged, genuinely curious. He wondered if the marks they shared bonded him and Arthur together like that.

“You’re awfully interested, aren’t you? Did you get some brain damage in that fight?” Arthur raised an eyebrow, causing a small blush to creep onto Alfred’s face.

“No!” He protested quickly. “I just...I don’t know. Watching you do something like that was...amazing.” 

Of course the castle had alchemists and mages that specialized in healing, but there was only so much they could do. Magic had its limits, and often that limit was the extent of the user’s own sorcerous power. The weaker the mage, the weaker their magic would be. It was simple. But Arthur? He was not weak, Alfred could see that clearly. And still, the Brit was here helping him, and had been so gentle with Peter it was almost as if he were just a normal, older brother, and not a terror of the seas. It was almost funny.

“I don’t see what’s so amazing about it.” Arthur said quietly, taking a moment to pause before he continued. “You don’t seem to have an issue with blood magic.”

“Blood magic?” Alfred repeated back, confused. Then he realized, that spell had required blood, so it made sense. A lot of people frowned on that practice.

He knew that there were certain types of magic that were considered taboo or even forbidden. Things like blood magic were often seen as distasteful, but not technically unlawful as long as the blood was humanely sourced from consenting givers. Other types of magic, more serious in nature such as necromancy, were an act against the gods and strictly prohibited. Usually, anyone caught performing any sort of forbidden, dark magic was punished severely. If, that is, they survived long enough for a punishment to be given. Dark magic was forbidden for a reason, it was simply too dangerous and too unstable. Often times those who attempted it suffered incredible, physical ailments that often led to a painful demise. 

“I mean, if it helps Peter, I don’t mind. I just wish you didn’t have to hurt yourself to do it.” Alfred was being honest and Arthur could see it in his eyes.

The shorter blonde cleared his throat, turning back to his ingredients and began to round them up. 

“Lay back down,” The Brit instructed, gathering his things in his arms. 

Alfred frowned as soon as he realized the other was leaving again. He opened his mouth to say something, but he wasn’t even sure what he could say to stop Arthur from leaving. 

Thankfully, Arthur beat him to it.

“I’ll be right back.” The captain told him. “Oh, and take your clothes off before I return.”

“H-Huh?” The prince stuttered, not getting an answer except for a laugh before the pirate was gone.

Nervously, Alfred sat there in silence alone. Had Arthur been serious? He really couldn’t tell. Unable to decide, he opted for the safe option and remained clothed, until Arthur came back into the room a few minutes later and frowned at him.

“I thought I told you to undress, idiot.”

“You were serious?” Alfred’s blush returned, lingering on his cheeks. “Why?”

“Because, do you not want to heal?” The captain walked back to the nightstand and dumped what he was holding onto it carefully. “I’m going to tend to your wounds. Can’t very well do that with your clothes in the way.” He noticed the peculiar look Alfred was giving him and the slight rosiness on his cheeks. “What? Did you seriously think I was going to bed you in your state? You’d very well pass out before either of us finished.” He smirked.

“I-I don’t know...maybe I did.” Alfred muttered, sitting back up and began to pull off his shirt when he felt eyes boring into him. He laughed a little nervously. “This would be a lot easier if you didn’t watch me like that.” 

Arthur made no attempt to humble himself, and instead crossed his arms and continued to observe the younger man as he removed his shirt. “I told you to be ready before I came back, it’s your own fault I’m staring.”

Even if he had thought Arthur was joking, he could give him a little privacy by turning away! Still, he couldn't help but notice that something in Arthur's eyes gleamed with interest, as if he liked what he saw.

“Get on with it already,” The Brit rolled his eyes. “Don’t act so embarrassed, we just shagged last night. This is hardly anything to blush over after that, isn’t it?”

He had a point, but it didn’t stop Alfred from turning red still. Slowly, he pulled off his shirt and discarded it to the side of the bed. “I don’t think there’s much to worry about on my legs, so don’t worry about those.” He had to remind himself to be wary of how much Arthur saw of him. One mistake and his identity could be found out if Arthur caught sight of the mark on his hip.

“Was that really so hard?” Arthur smirked, eyeing his naked chest a few moments longer and Alfred swore he saw something dark cross over his captain’s face for just a moment. Then, he was shuffling with the new items he had brought in. “Lie down, I’m going to treat your wounds while the potion is still in effect. You’ll be in less pain that way.”

What came next was unreal for Alfred. He laid back, easing onto the sheet and watched quietly. Arthur dipped a rag into a bowl, filled with what he had said was water and some soothing oils to help the healing process and to ensure he got no infections. Then, those pale hands were on him, gently running the towel across his bruised skin. 

He was shocked at how tender Arthur was being, making sure he wasn’t pressing down too hard and being careful not to make the experience painful. Even when he did accidentally press down a bit too hard on one of his cuts, Alfred had let out a hiss of discomfort, and Arthur immediately removed his hands.

“Sorry,” the Brit apologized quickly and waited for Alfred to be ready before he continued.

Alfred laid there, watching Arthur’s face and enjoyed the feeling of being washed like he was. The pirate wrapped a few deeper cuts with bandages and even helped him roll over onto his stomach so he could get his back as well. It was surprisingly soothing, being looked after like this by his captain. Alfred couldn’t help the satisfied sigh that left him at the relaxation. He could practically feel Arthur’s smirk when he heard it.

“You like this, huh?” The shorter blonde smiled smugly.

“Hmph, it is sort of like a massage. Who wouldn’t like it?” The prince replied.

“If you say so.” Arthur chuckled softly, finishing up his work and placing the soiled rag into the bowl to be discarded later. 

“How’s your hand?” Alfred couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t want Arthur to strain it. He knew he was tough but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel pain. He didn't want him putting too much pressure on it.

“It’s fine.”

Alfred rolled onto this back once more, unsatisfied with the short answer but he wasn’t surprised by it.

“We’re done. Get some rest.” The pirate told him, ready to leave once more.

“Hold on,” The prince sat up on his elbow and reached out in time to wrap his fingers around the other man’s wrist, gently pulling him closer. 

“Alfred, what on earth are you--” Arthur didn’t have time to finish his sentence before the taller man had pulled his injured hand to his lips, softly giving the bandages around the wound a small kiss. 

“Thank you for helping me, Artie.” Alfred spoke lowly, his eyes half lidded as he gave the other man’s hand another, small kiss. “I wish I could take away your pain too.”

Arthur was beside himself, watching with wide eyes as Alfred took his hand and gave it gentle affection. This wasn’t lust like last night, this was much, much deeper. He swallowed hard, feeling a weight building in his chest at the sight. He bit his lip, realizing he really didn’t want to pull away.

“Don’t fret over me, dear.” He finally managed to say, his voice so soft he surprised even himself with it. He reached over with his other hand, running it through Alfred’s wheat colored hair. “I’ve been through much worse. A little cut is hardly something to fuss over.”

Alfred kept the hand in his grasp, but stopped kissing it so he could look up at Arthur properly. The way those emerald eyes were staring down at him made him feel warm and his chest tightened as he stared right back into them. “I wish I could take all of it away...” He clarified. “...all your pain.”

He didn’t know what it was or what had happened, but there was a look buried deep in Arthur’s eyes that told a story he wanted to read. He longed to know everything about the captain, everything that made him smile along with everything that made him cry. He wanted to bundle up those fears and regrets and bathe him in love and affection. 

He moved the Brit’s hand he held so that he could nuzzle his cheek into it. It hurt just a bit from the bruising on his cheek, but Alfred still closed his eyes and appreciated every second of it. He wanted to be able to touch Arthur this lovingly more and more.

Shockingly, Arthur still didn’t pull away. He allowed Alfred to use his hand to cup his cheek and even encouraged it by running his thumb over his captive’s skin in a soothing motion.

“Silly git,” Arthur said softly, making no attempt to remove himself from Alfred. “You’re still injured. Rest up, I will still be here when you awake.”

Alfred nodded, reluctantly letting go of Arthur and lying back on the bed, doing his best not to blush at the obvious way Arthur’s eyes scanned over his bare frame once more. He really was ready to get some sleep, even though the medicine helped with the pain, the fatigue was still very much there.

“Sleep well.” The Brit told him, collecting his things and walking towards the door. “And Alfred...thank you.”

Before he could question it, the man was gone.


	12. Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alistair is aph Scotland  
> Owen is aph Wales  
> Liam is aph (Northern) Ireland

The next day, they left The King’s Grave and set sail into the open seas once more.

Alfred had been given the rest of the day to rest up but given he was as stubborn as he was, he grew restless. Instead, he decided to check on Peter and was thrilled to see the smaller Brit sitting up in bed. In fact, he even looked like he was already healing fairly quickly. He assumed Arthur’s spell really worked wonders.

He greeted the boy and sat beside his bed in the empty chair, glad to see that Peter was excited to see him too. Well, since they both had been given orders to rest and heal up, Alfred saw no point in having to do so separately. 

“Here, I’ll show you how to play that card game like I promised.” The Prince smiled at the excited way Peter cheered as he brought out the cards.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

The next few days went rather well, all things considered. Alfred wasn’t healing as fast as Peter was since Arthur couldn’t perform the spell on him like he could his brother. But, the Brit’s efforts to help him sped up the process incredibly anyway. 

Arthur was more or less acting like his usual self, never bringing up anything that had happened at the harbor. Alfred wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. After all, even if he was told not to develop feelings, he yearned to hold Arthur close to him. He would, he told himself, one day he would convince Arthur to be his. Not because of some mark, but because he could feel himself falling hard for the captain. He just wanted Arthur to feel the same.

For now, he would enjoy the small interactions he got with the grumpy Brit.

“Did you hear?” A crew member said within earshot. Alfred pulled at some ropes and tightened the ends as he eavesdropped, not very interested but it was hard not to when the men were so close. “Apparently the Spade prince has gone missing.”

Alfred froze.

“Missing?” The other man said. 

“Yes. There’s no word on a ransom yet. You think he finally got offed?”

The two men laughed darkly, but Alfred was doing anything but. Cool sweat dripped down his brow but thankfully he had been sweating before so it was easy to mask.

“I hope not. Think of the money we would get returning the brat back to mommy and daddy.” They laughed more. “Or...I rather think Captain Kirkland would love to get his hands on him. That would be fun to watch, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t want to be the prince if Captain got a hold of me, that’s for sure.”

Alfred felt his stomach twist and fought the urge to puke. He should’ve realized that sooner or later his disappearance would become gossip throughout all the kingdoms. It wasn’t exactly every day a prince up and vanishes for weeks on end, after all. 

“Hey! Stop idling and get back to work!” Gilbert yelled across the dock, causing the two gossiping crew mates to flinch and quickly return to their duties. “And you,” 

Alfred flinched when he realized those red eyes were on him. They lingered on him uncomfortably and the prince could only wonder what the albino was thinking as he stared. Finally, the tension was broken when the other man opened his mouth for more orders.

“Just ‘cause you’re The Captain’s pet doesn’t mean you get to slack off either. Hurry the hell up!” The albino man barked, his thoughtful gaze replaced by a more stern one. Alfred quickly did as he was told.

Nearly an hour later, Lukas stalked onto the deck and quietly stood beside the commanding pirate.

“Gilbert.” He greeted lowly, though his gaze focused elsewhere. “I apologize for the interference, but I will be taking Alfred for just a short while.”

“Huh? What are you talking about now? He’s got work to do, Captain’s orders that he makes himself useful with the others unless he needs him.” Gilbert frowned. 

“Don’t worry, it won’t be long. If The Captain asks, refer him to me. I assure you, I’ll take all the blame.” Lukas replied easily, noticing the look of thought crossing the other man’s face.

“Mn...I guess. But only ‘cause you helped us get The Captain back.” He settled, nodding for the Norwegian to take Alfred. He didn’t bother asking what he was needed for, it was no doubt some sort of ‘divine bidding’. Normally Gilbert would scoff at it, but having the religious figure around did sometimes help the morale of the crew. Who knew having a neutral party to spill all your sins out to could help a bunch of misfits?

“Thank you.” Was the basic reply before Lukas moved forward, walking quietly towards the sweating teen as he moved a heavy crate. “Alfred,”

“Gods!” Said man turned around with startled, wide eyes. He hadn’t even heard the other blonde come up behind him. “Oh man, it’s just you. Lukas, isn’t it? What’s up?”

“Follow me, I wish to talk to you for a bit. It’s alright, I’ve already spoken to Gilbert.” Lukas waved his hand in a welcoming motion before turning around and leading the way below the deck.

Alfred was hesitant to follow but a quick glance in the albino’s direction, and the nod he received from him, allowed his feet to move and follow. He trailed behind the shorter blonde curiously until they came to a small room covered in idols and trinkets. There were symbols of the gods all around and even a small statue of the goddess on a table. She was surrounded with candles and incense, obviously meant to replicate an actual temple and altar. For being on a pirate ship, Alfred had to give it some credit as it really wasn't half bad.

“So...what did you need to talk to me about?” He couldn’t help the edge in his voice. He was nervous, unsure about what Lukas could possibly want from him. He had never spoken to him before, after all, so why now all of a sudden?

Instead of answering, the Norwegian closed the door and motioned for his guest to sit in one of the chairs by a small table. 

“There’s no need to be so nervous,” Lukas told him. “You’re Arthur’s now, so no one on this ship will harm you.” Not unless the British captain wanted them to, of course. But, he’d leave that part out. So far, their leader had shown no signs of wanting that. “Gilbert was rough on you today, please relax. Here, have some tea.” 

A cup was placed in front of Alfred and steaming liquid poured into it. Alfred wasn’t the biggest fan of tea, but he did learn that Arthur absolutely adored the stuff. Plus, he guessed he shouldn’t be too picky considering what they had was limited until they reached their next port.

“Thanks. Yeah, Gilbert can be kind of an ass.” He said it before he could think better of it and bit his lip, hoping he wouldn’t be ratted out.

“Gilbert isn’t as bad as he seems.” Lukas countered quietly. “He is in a position of authority, after all. His job is to ensure the work is done and done well. But he is a nice enough man at the end of the day, the two of you may even get along rather well.” The shorter man took his place in the chair opposite of Alfred, sitting down and sipping his own drink.

The prince snorted at that. “Yeah, sure.”

“He’s much like Arthur in that aspect. You enjoy The Captain’s company, do you not?”

Alfred nearly spat out his tea at that. “H-Huh? Oh, well, I mean--” He stammered. He did enjoy being around Arthur, more than he probably should considering he was a pirate. This whole mission of his wasn’t just about convincing him to come back to the castle with him anymore. No, now it was even more. Alfred wanted Arthur to be happy and safe. He wanted to love him and for the Brit to love him back. “Yes, I do.” He croaked out.

“I thought so,” Lukas said evenly, as if the man across from him wasn’t a confused mess of nerves and emotions. 

The silence between them was stale for a while. Lukas made no more efforts to make conversation and Alfred was swimming in his thoughts. 

Was it really that obvious that he liked Arthur? Of course to the captain it would be more obvious, but they had so many moments in private together that would make it clear. But what about the other crew members? Did they know? They must, if Lukas did. Though the man was more observant than the others. 

Maybe Arthur had told him? The two talked like good friends would, it wouldn’t be a leap in logic to think that he had simply been gossiped about. If that was the case...what had Arthur said? Had he made fun of him for his feelings? Did he confess some sort of attraction as well?

Alfred was nearly ready to explode from all these different scenarios playing through his head that he didn’t notice Lukas staring at him until he spoke.

“Arthur still doesn’t know who you are, does he?”

“What?” Alfred was snapped from his thoughts and his eyes met with Lukas’s.

“Excuse me for being blunt, your majesty.” 

The Norwegian’s words chilled the prince to his bones. A rush of panic and fear washed over him like the tides, crashing into him and knocking the wind from his lungs. He had no time to recover before the other man continued.

“You’ve done very well to hide your mark from him for this long. But tell me, what is your plan when he does find out?”

Alfred’s throat went dry. Lukas knew who he was. Lukas knew and he could tell everyone, he could tell Arthur! How long had he known? Why hadn’t he told them yet?

“Please...don’t tell him.” Alfred’s voice was so quiet it was barely even a whisper.

Lukas seemed to ponder the words for a moment and nodded. “I haven’t told him yet, have I? But I suggest you figure out what you’re going to do when he does find out.” He told him pointedly. “Do not make it hurt worse for him than it already will.”

“I-I don’t want to hurt him!” Alfred exclaimed quickly. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Arthur. “H-He’s...he’s everything I could’ve wanted. No, no he’s _more_. Oh my gods,” He whispered, eyes staring in some mix between fear and hope as he looked to the statue of the goddess on the makeshift altar. Some sense of realization washed over him. “I’m falling in love with him. I want him to be my queen but I want him to be happy... to be happy with me.”

Lukas was characteristically quiet for a while before he spoke. “Do you know where we are headed now?”

Alfred looked back over to the man in front of him, eyes desperate for something he couldn’t touch. “No.” He answered, wondering why he would bring that up amidst everything that had just been said. 

Lukas hummed softly. “We are sailing to Britannia.” He could tell by the look on the prince’s face that the name rang a bell, but he couldn’t quite place it. He took it upon himself to elaborate. “Britannia is the island Arthur is from. He is going home.” It was no doubt that almost losing Peter ruffled up some sort of homesickness for the Brit. “This will not be a simple visit. Prince Alfred,” he saw the way the title made the other man stiffen. “If you truly want Arthur to be happy, you will need to see why he despises you so much.” 

Alfred nodded to show he was listening even though his voice was stuck in this throat. He swallowed and forced it out. “I don’t want him to hate me.” 

“I know you don’t.”

“How?” He couldn’t help but ask. Everything in him was swirling in confusion, most of all why Lukas would help him and not tell Arthur who he really was. “Why are you doing this? Why not tell Arthur the truth about me?”

The smaller man seemed to ponder this for a moment, but he was quick to answer. “The Goddess has declared that the two of you are the rightful heirs of the Spade Kingdom. I heard her call and answered it. Those years ago when I assisted in freeing Arthur from your royal guards was because she requested me to.”

“What? But if Arthur was going to be brought to the castle, why free him? Shouldn’t the goddess want him to be there as soon as possible since she gave him the mark to begin with?” Alfred asked, bewildered. He never said he fully understood the gods and their ways, but giving Arthur the mark only to keep them apart was incomprehensible to him. 

“I can’t speak for her,” Lukas admitted. “However, from where I stand, it seems like it was the best course of action at the time.” Seeing the confusion furrow deeper in Alfred, he continued. “Think. What would have happened had Arthur been dragged against his will to the castle then? There would be no hope of redemption for you in his eyes. Only hatred.”

“But I didn’t do anything! All I have is a mark that matches his, I don’t want to force him into anything.”

“That doesn’t matter because it isn’t your choice. Tradition would have been followed regardless of what you or he wanted. Arthur would have been crowned, but in doing so he would have lost his ship, his crew, his freedom, and most likely his brother.”

“Why would he lose Peter? He can come live in the castle with us!” He would love having the kid around.

Lukas didn’t reply for a while, sitting there quietly until Alfred shifted nervously in his seat. He chose not to answer the question and settled for something else. “If you want a chance at love with Arthur, you will have to delve into his darkness...and you may not like what you see.” His voice was low but clear, watching the reaction Alfred gave him carefully. The younger boy looked just as confused, if not now scared, as before. “The Goddess asked for my aid in this journey but in the end, it is up to you and Arthur to create your own fates.”

Alfred knew what he wanted, he wanted Arthur to be his but he also wanted him to be happy. He promised himself he would make sure it happened no matter what.

“Here, keep this.” Lukas pulled the necklace from his neck, offering it over to his guest who took it with hesitant hands. “You know what it is already, but for clarity’s sake, it’s the symbol of The Goddess. Keep it on you and let it remind you of what you want your fate to be. May She bless whatever path you choose to follow.”

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

The conversation with Lukas left Alfred anxious and paranoid. Surely if one person recognized him then someone else would eventually too. There was also the overwhelming thought that his identity would get to Arthur somehow as well, which was the last thing he wanted. He would tell him the truth eventually, he had to, but he wanted to do it on his own terms. He wanted Arthur to be able to forgive him.

These worries plagued his thoughts for the rest of the trip. Over two weeks later they landed on the coast of a green island, by a small, sea-side town. Their large ship looked painfully out of place parked at the humble dock, surrounded only by small boats used for fishing.

The crew members were allowed off the ship, but were instructed specifically to be ‘well-behaved’. Alfred found the command a little humorous considering they were pirates, after all, but no one had complained and even acted as if they had expected it. They respected their captain enough to listen.

“Gilbert,” Arthur voiced after having sought out the man on the deck of the ship. “You’re in charge of The Siren’s Arrow until I return. I trust you’ll keep everything in order.”

“Of course, Cap. Leave it to the awesome me!”

“Good. Alfred, you’re coming with me. Here, carry this.” The Brit handed the younger man a bag to sling around his back before he looked to his brother. Thankfully he had healed up quite nicely and looked alright to go out for the day. “Peter, are you ready?”

“Yeah!” The boy cheered excitedly, basically jumping in anticipation. “I love when we get to come back home.”

Arthur offered the smaller blonde a slight smile before motioning them to follow, stepping off the ship and into the town. They spent little time there, however, as Arthur continued onward. He guided them on a small, dirt path out of the little village and through some trees, leading out to fields and fields of long, green grass. 

Alfred held his breath seeing it. It was like a scene from a painting, where the grass gently licked the blue skyline. It was like stepping into a rural portrait in one of the castle halls. But actually being here was so much better than seeing it on a canvas. Here he could smell the salty air and feel the grass dance against his fingertips as he reached out to it. It was a kind of calm that he had never experienced before and suddenly, he found himself staring out in front of him to Arthur and Peter. 

The two brothers walked side by side, Peter eagerly skipping along beside Arthur who, every so often, gave the boy a content smile. It was picture perfect. It looked _right_ seeing them together here. Like they were meant to be here and nowhere else. 

It wasn’t until the pirate turned his head and gave him a confused look that Alfred noticed he had stopped walking completely, too enraptured by the sight of Arthur being so blissfully happy to even move.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

The words were genuine, their concern and worry piercing Alfred’s heart and pulling him in deeper. He didn’t want this to end, he realized. He wanted to see that peaceful look in Arthur’s eyes every day of his life. He wanted to see Arthur be this happy every waking moment.

“Alfred?” Peter had stopped now too, confused as he turned around just as his older brother had. “Are you okay?”

Something caught in his throat and kept the words from coming out, but he managed to nod and continue onward. He caught the troubled glance Arthur gave him at that moment but the Brit didn’t voice his concerns, instead he turned and continued their pace up the shallow hills.

Eventually, Alfred saw a small building come into view. Sitting atop a hill, only a short distance away from the calm waters was a modest home. It was hardly anything to be proud of, not looking even big enough for a small family. Still, he had to admit, it had a certain charm to it that drew him in. 

Peter cheered when the house came into view and he ran the rest of the way to it, bounding through the door without knocking. Alfred was worried he might be busting in on a kind family, but Arthur surprisingly didn’t mind, so he guessed his fears were misplaced. 

Catching up to the boy, Alfred glanced around and found they were the only people there. The inside of the building was just as humble and simple as the outside. The rooms were small and decorated with only simple, wooden furniture, the only pops of color being handmade items like pillows and blankets. It was the stark opposite of the castle back home filled with gold and riches.

Yet, this didn’t seem to bother Arthur or Peter at all. The two of them making themselves at home as if they’d lived there their entire lives.

Then, it hit him. Lukas had said they were headed to The Island of Britannia, where Arthur had been born and raised. Could this really be where the extravagant captain had come from? 

“Here, let me see the bag.” The Brit pulled at the sack still hung around the prince’s shoulders, easily pulling it off and setting it on the kitchen table. The wooden piece of furniture nearly took up the entire room, making it appear even smaller than it already did. He dug through it and pulled out a small box of tea leaves and a pot, setting them on the table before moving to the stove to start a fire. “Alfred, will you take that bucket and get some water? There’s a pump just outside, around back.”

The prince dutifully nodded, willing to do anything to keep Arthur this happy. “No problem, I’ll be back in no time, Cap!” He grabbed the bucket from its spot and went back outside, rounding the building and easily finding the pump Arthur had mentioned.

The water pump wasn’t the only thing behind the home, however, and Alfred couldn’t help but stop and stare. Resting, neatly cleaned and well cared for were four graves lined in a row, each marked by a slab of stone. They were shadowed by a large tree, its branches leaning over them as if to shield them from the sun. 

He gripped the bucket a little tighter in his hand as he looked them over. It wasn’t a feeling of fear, despite the fact they were utterly alone and no one would hear him if he did scream. No, the stones carved with the names of those past sent a wave of heartache over him. He had no idea why, he didn’t know these people or how they had died. For all he knew, they were awful people or they had lived long, fulfilling lives. But something in him told him neither of those things were true.

“That’s our family.”

Alfred jumped, turning to see Peter standing beside him. Despite what he said, he still held a joyful grin on his young face.

“This one here is our mum,” The boy walked over and patted one of the stones under his small hand. He gave the name marker a wide smile before motioning the others beside it. “And these are our big brothers! This one’s Alistair, he is the oldest.” He pointed at each grave as he named them off, not bothered at all by the heart-rending act. Did Peter not feel the sense of gloom Alfred was feeling? He looked as happy as ever. “And this is Owen, he’s the next oldest. And this one’s Liam, he’s the third!”

The young boy grinned over at Alfred as he introduced each passed family member. The realization that Arthur didn’t have just one brother but four shook him to his core. How had he never heard these names before? Why was Arthur’s truth not being told to him? Did his parents really not think it was important to tell him about his future husband’s family?

Peter didn’t notice the forlorn in Alfred’s eyes and continued anyway.

“Next is Arthur, but you know him already. He’s mum’s fourth son, and then there's me! I’m the last!” He pointed at himself excitedly. “Arthur takes care of me now, but we like to come back and visit our mum and our brothers sometimes, when we can.” He explained, as if it were that easy. As if this was the same as a small walk down the road to visit your favorite neighbor. 

The ease in which Peter talked about his family broke Alfred’s heart to pieces. He wondered, how did it make Arthur feel?

“It’s really pretty here and I miss it a lot sometimes. But, Arthur says we can’t stay too long. There’s a lot of royal ships around, I think they look for him here because they know we always come back.” Peter sat on the ground in front of the graves, bringing his knees up and resting his arms on them. “I don’t really understand why they want him so bad. I mean, if he doesn’t want to marry some prince then he shouldn’t have to, right? They can’t make him marry someone. That’s not how love works. You’re supposed to love the person you marry, aren’t you?”

Alfred felt his hands shaking. He wondered how a child no older than twelve could really be sitting there in front of his dead family and be so content with the chaos that surrounded him. The chaos that _his_ family was causing.

“Alfred? Aren’t you supposed to be getting some water? Arthur will get cranky if you take too long and he doesn’t get his tea.” Peter warned, snapping the prince out of his emotions long enough to walk over to the pump and set the bucket in front of it. He pushed it until the water started to leak out of it, filling the container with clear liquid.

“Are you coming inside?” Alfred forced himself to ask, his voice strained from the emotional burden he was feeling.

“Nah, not yet. I want to sit out here a little longer. But I’ll come in once the tea is done.” The boy smiled warmly.

Alfred only nodded and carried the bucket back towards the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to make the chapters a bit longer, hopefully that's coming across well!


	13. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Arthur sings in this chapter is "When I'm Gone" by Shawn James :)

Going back into the house, Alfred found the kitchen empty. However, by this point he knew how Arthur liked his tea so he poured some of the water into the pot sitting on the stove so it could come to a boil. A few moments later, the Brit returned.

“Ah, you’ve already got the water going. Brilliant.” The captain readied some cups and when the water had finished, he filled each and placed the tea bags inside. “You’ve made your distaste for tea quite clear, would you fancy a cup anyway?”

Alfred couldn’t keep the small smile from splitting across his face at the offer, but shook his head. “No thanks, I appreciate you asking though.”

Arthur shrugged. “Suit yourself, you can have water if you’d like. Now, let Peter know it’s almost ready.” He watched as his captive nodded and left to do just that, not failing to notice the sappy grin on the other’s face as he did so. He wondered what had Alfred feeling so happy.

Moments later, the two came back in and the younger Kirkland hopped into one of the dining chairs, bringing a cup to his lips after pulling out the bag of leaves. Arthur followed suit right after and even though he only poured himself a bit of water, Alfred sat as well.

The prince was uncharacteristically quiet as he watched the brothers go back and forth, talking among themselves as if he weren’t even there. Not that he minded. In fact, the lazy smile was still plastered on his face as he just enjoyed the peaceful exchange. It was so different sitting here with Arthur and Peter than it ever felt on the ship. He enjoyed spending time with them there as well, but here it felt more...domestic. More normal, almost. Like Arthur wasn’t his captain and Peter wasn’t sick. It felt more like a family.

“Arthur, will you play for us later?” Peter asked hopefully. The secret royal almost missed it after being in his own thoughts so long.

“Hmm, perhaps. We’ll see in a bit, alright?” Arthur replied gently.

“Play what?” Alfred found himself asking, effectively slicing the facade of privacy the two were sharing. “You can play something?”

“Yeah! Arthur can play the guitar! He sings too, he’s really good.” The younger sibling grinned proudly.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but a small smile stayed on his lips. “I don’t know that I would say ‘really good’, but it is a hobby I enjoy from time to time.” It wasn’t something he partook in very often anymore due to how busy being a captain could be. But, in the fleeting moments of calm like these, he might relax with a good song.

“I would love to hear that.” Alfred admitted aloud, unashamed at his interest. If Arthur could really sing as well as Peter was trying to hype him up to be then why shouldn’t he want to indulge his curiosity?

Arthur pondered it for a moment and let out a small sigh, accompanied by a shrug. “I suppose it won’t hurt.”

Alfred could hardly hide his excitement, which Arthur saw flash across his face like a child getting a new toy. He found himself smiling slightly in return.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

Alfred and Peter watched Arthur test the strings of the old guitar with starry eyes. Their dual eagerness was almost humorous considering one of them was a grown man. Still, both of them waited with wide smiles as the older Brit prepared the instrument and cleared his throat.

“What are you going to sing, Arthur?” Peter asked curiously.

“Hm, I was thinking one of the old songs mum used to sing.” They weren’t always the lightest of songs. Many held emotions that were raw and sorrowful, but their mother had never been one to shy away from the reality of the world. His younger brother only smiled more and nodded his approval.

When Arthur was ready, he cleared his throat.

The melody started first, dripping with an emotion Alfred hadn’t expected. It was almost sad. Then, the Brit opened his mouth to sing and the prince felt his chest pull tightly. 

_“Bury my heart in a willow tree”_

His voice cut through the cool, afternoon air. Sitting under the large tree, branches hanging teasingly towards them, he looked unbothered by them as he continued.

_“Find shelter and shade in my arms  
Once I am gone don't mourn for me  
I hope you take pride in what I used to be”_

Alfred swallowed a lump in his throat. Arthur’s words cut into his heart but the content, almost peaceful, look on the captain’s face was telling. It was bittersweet to watch him sing about his own death and yet look so happy.

_“I've made mistakes that I can't take back  
I'm just a man, both good and bad  
Can you forgive all my wrongs?”_

The prince’s hands wrung into the fabric of his pants. Arthur’s voice was magical to him, like a siren beckoning him forward. He could feel a pull in him, calling him deeper and deeper into the other man’s depths. 

Each syllable Arthur sang was another sigh of want Alfred felt.

He yearned to tell him the truth, in that moment. To admit his own wrongs, to show Arthur that his sins were not all that he was. Not to him, at least. Never to Alfred. He guaranteed he could forgive Arthur no matter what he did, but the sickening thought that Arthur could not forgive _him_ was paralyzing.

_“Memories may fade but what we create may stay  
Time holds the key of fate  
Only time can reveal the gate”_

The song ended with a roar of applause from Peter, who clapped beside him. Alfred was almost shocked the younger boy enjoyed such a melancholy song. Then again, Arthur’s voice was positively radiant. 

“That was amazing!” The smaller sibling declared. “See? I told you Arthur is really good!” He was grinning at Alfred now, who managed to return the gesture to hide his worries.

“It is true, you weren’t lying. You’re seriously fantastic, Cap!” Alfred praised, earning him a cocked smile and a raised eyebrow from the older man. It looked like Arthur didn’t fully believe he thought he was that good. Alfred, however he may have felt hearing the lyrics, stood by his judgement. Arthur was nothing short of a siren himself. “I could listen to you all day.”

At that, the Brit chuckled and shook his head. “I think one song is enough for now.” Only laughing again when the other two blondes pouted in disappointment. “Alright, alright. I’ll play a bit longer, but no more singing for now.”

Alfred and Peter would take that compromise, lying back in the soft grass with the sound of Arthur’s playing surrounding them.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

As evening began to turn the blue skies orange, Arthur made sure that his brother had eaten his fill of dinner before preparing him for bed.

Alfred had learned that the three of them were not headed back to the ship for the night. Instead, they would remain here for the time being and he was not about to complain about spending more time with Arthur off the giant boat.

In fact, as sullen as the lyrics had made him and how he pondered over how he could possibly tell Arthur who he truly was, the entire day had been quite relaxing afterwards. His fears and anxieties brushed away by the gentle strumming of the guitar and he had simply enjoyed being near the two brothers in such a relaxing state. That airy mood transferred over to now, after Peter had been put into his bed and Arthur was standing before him with a curious stare. 

“Let’s head to the beach for a bit.” The prince offered. They surprisingly hadn’t even touched the sand, despite it really not being that far from the tiny home. But, he supposed beaches weren’t that exciting for pirates.

Arthur was hesitant to leave Peter behind in the house, but knew very well that given their position that no one would be able to sneak up on the building without them noticing first. “You didn’t get enough sand on you in The King’s Grave?” He asked mockingly, ignoring the cringe Alfred gave when he mentioned the harbor’s name again. He chalked it up to him remembering his fight there.

“It just feels really nice out.” Alfred countered with a small grin. “We won’t go far. The moon is bright out so I figured it’d be okay to take a little walk.” He wanted to admit that he wanted to walk with Arthur along the beach like in those many of those old, cheesy romance novels his mother read. He wanted to hold his hand, pull him close in the moonlight, and ravish his lips until they were both out of breath. 

“It won’t hurt to take a small stroll, I suppose.” The smaller man relented, allowing Alfred the lead the way out of the small house.

It didn’t take them long to reach the shore line, their steps making marks in the untouched sand. They only walked a short distance, the dim light of the house still very clearly in view.

“Peter mentioned your family earlier. Er, your mom and your brothers.” Alfred couldn’t help but start. He had bit back his curiosity more than once that day but now that he finally had Arthur alone, he couldn’t help himself. “He showed me their graves. I’m sorry if this isn’t a good subject, I just--”

“You just want to know more about me.” Arthur finished for him. “You say that a lot, you know?”

Alfred blushed a little and scratched the back of his head with a weak chuckle. “Only because it’s really true.”

Arthur hummed but didn’t reply, their feet crunching softly in the sand and the gentle rolling of the waves was the only sound. Soon, however, they came to a set of giant rocks, at which the captain paused and sat. He motioned for Alfred to join him on the large, grey stone. 

“Arthur,” he voiced carefully. He had a million things he wanted to say but they just jumbled up in his throat. “Why do you not want to be queen?”

The Brit scoffed, “I thought I had made it perfectly clear I didn’t like that question.” Considering the first time it had been asked he nearly killed the younger man. It was brave of him to ask it again, he had to admit. Either that or it was just really stupid.

But, unlike last time, Arthur didn’t fly into a rage. It almost surprised himself that he took the question, which usually irritated him to no end, as calmly as he did. He would blame it on the serenity of their current spot by the waves.

“I know and I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you upset.” Alfred replied quickly. He was telling the truth and he was certain Arthur could tell that by the way he was looking at him. 

“But?” Arthur urged. He knew there was more the other man wanted to say.

Alfred nodded slowly, willing himself to continue. “But...you never actually gave me a reason. Most people would want a position like that so I...I don’t know. I guess I just don’t understand, but I want to. You’re smart and you’re strong, I know you must have a reason to hate the idea of being queen as much as you do.” Even though it burnt on his tongue to say, he knew it was the truth of the matter. 

The British captain didn’t respond right away, instead he glanced out to the blue waves sparkling under the moonlight. After a few minutes of watching the waters caress the land, Arthur spoke up. 

“Tell me, Alfred,” he started slowly, his green eyes still staring out into the vast expanse of the sea before them. “What do you know of Jokers?”

“Jokers?” Alfred repeated, the hint of judgement in his voice audible without him meaning for it to be. 

Arthur didn’t fail to notice the raise in the other man’s voice and his lips turned downward. “Yes. You are from the Spade capital, you have a sort of fondness for the royal family, you must know about them. Tell me, what do you think of them?” 

Alfred wasn’t sure. He had been told many things of Jokers, none of which were exactly good. Though he had never met any himself, he had been told they were very few and far between. Much like The Goddess marked the future king and queen with the appropriate stamp, Jokers were marked as well but were also of a different, more confusing breed altogether.

Jokers weren’t exactly understood, but a good many believed they brought nothing but ruin and destruction. 

Alfred had heard many stories of the past, where people had been falsely accused as Jokers by their peers as a way of revenge. It had been little short of a witch hunt, little proof needed for a painful, if not deadly, sentence to be carried out on the accused. Times had changed since then, of course, but the thought of finding a Joker was taboo at best.

“I...don’t know.” Alfred admitted quietly, wondering why on earth Arthur would bring up such a topic. “I always heard Jokers were evil. That they were a mockery to the Divine and that their symbols were that of darkness. Aren’t they supposed to bring down the fall of the kingdoms?”

Arthur’s face was stony as he listened, his emerald eyes now boring into the young prince with an expression he couldn’t read. It made Alfred cringe inward. 

“That’s what you’ve heard but you’ve yet to tell me what you actually think.” 

“Oh, umm...” He didn’t think much of it at all, truthfully. It was hard when he had never experienced it first hand. As far as he knew, no Joker had been found in decades. He couldn’t lie that he held a certain apprehension about them, after all the old stories and warnings had to hold some truth. Didn’t they? “I don’t…really think anything about them, I guess. I’ve never met one, so how could I judge someone I’ve never actually met?”

If he had learned anything it was not to fully trust the stories he’d grown up hearing. Arthur unknowingly taught him that much. After all, he had heard so many horrible things about Arthur before having actually met him and yet here he was, completely infatuated. He couldn't see himself with anyone else.

Something about his answer must have struck Arthur, though he didn’t voice his thoughts aloud. The older man’s eyes shifted, dancing across his face as if he were searching for something. After a while, he spoke again. “Peter told you about our mother and our older brothers.” It wasn’t a question so much as just a fact.

“Yes. Well, he told me which grave was whose, and your brother’s names.” Alfred didn’t know any more than that.

“He didn’t tell you how they died.”

Again, not a question. Still, Alfred shook his head no.

Arthur’s thoughtful gaze left his face then and returned towards the ocean. The captain’s green eyes reflected the moonlight off the water and now Alfred felt himself staring at them. 

“Have you ever wondered why I named my ship ‘The Siren’s Arrow’?” Arthur asked without looking at him.

“You’re asking a lot of weird questions tonight.” Not that Alfred minded because he did enjoy talking with Arthur, but the pirate was acting off. Like there was something bothering him but he just wasn’t allowing himself to voice his concerns.

The green-eyed man turned and frowned at his servant with an impatient glare. At the annoyed gesture, Alfred decided it’d be best to answer his questions, even if they were strange.

“I...kind of. I mean, pirates always give their ships cool names, right? I always figured it was just a name you thought sounded nice.” He hadn’t thought much about it, truthfully. Out of all the things he wanted to learn about Arthur, his naming skills were not exactly at the forefront of his mind. But, now that it was brought up directly, he found himself curious. “Why did you name it that?”

“After my mother.”

The answer had been so quick and so quiet that Alfred questioned whether it had actually been said out loud at all or if his mind had made it up. He looked to Arthur again, his questions silently gleaming in his eyes until the other elaborated.

“The Siren’s Arrow is a memorial, of sorts. My mother loved to sing and she loved the ocean, much like a siren. The song I sang earlier was something she often enjoyed singing herself while she walked on the beach.” He explained.

Alfred felt that same, worried feeling twist in his chest as before. 

“But...what about the arrow?” He asked cautiously. If the siren herself was meant to be Arthur’s mother for such a personal reason, she was no doubt armed for a similar purpose.

At that Arthur gave a small, almost sad smile. It took him a few moments to answer, trying to decide the words to use or if he even wanted to be truthful at all. “The arrow isn’t as much of a metaphor as you might think.” He finally admitted, shifting in a way that Alfred almost thought looked _uncomfortable_. It was not a look he was used to from the captain. 

“We don’t have to talk about this if you really don’t want to.”

Arthur scoffed again. “I’m not a child, lad. I’ve got a stiff upper lip.”

Alfred was unconvinced that Arthur was completely alright with the current topic, but nodded. “So, it isn’t as much of a metaphor. Then why an arrow?” He urged and against his better judgement, reached out and put his hand on top of the other man’s in what he hoped was a comforting motion.

“Right.” The pirate’s mocking grin was gone and replaced by a small frown, but he didn’t move his hand away as Alfred took it. “I asked you how you feel about Jokers for a reason. You probably don’t believe there are any around, do you? Your precious royals tell you everything’s alright because there aren’t any… _vermin_ around to ruin things.” The heat raised in his words as he spoke and his free hand curled into a fist at his side. “What if they were lying?”

“Lying?” Alfred's brows furrowed together in confusion. The King and Queen couldn’t be lying. He was the Prince of Spades, he would know if his parents knew. He was being trained as the next ruler of a powerful empire, they wouldn’t keep secrets from him.

Right?

“Arthur, what are you talking about?” Alfred demanded as softly as he could, but the suspicion and hurt edged his words sharply.

“I’m talking about your shite royals in their damned lies!” The Brit practically yelled back, but his anger was placed far beyond where he was glaring. The fire that burned in his eyes, filled with hatred and despair, was not at the Alfred that sat beside him. It was aimed far away, at the prince he believed to be cooped up in the castle. 

The realization that Arthur’s outburst was meant for him, knowingly or not, made Alfred’s guilt grow worse. But how could he tell the fiery captain who he was without him hating him forever?

“What does that have to do with Jokers? Or your family?” Alfred was desperately trying to piece together a puzzle in his mind from the fragments he had been given. This was all suddenly new, despite everything he had been told about Arthur, none of it fit together with the new information he was being given. “Tell me why you hate the Spade Prince so much.”

At that, the Englishman let out a dark laugh. His voice ringing around Alfred’s head like a cruel fog. 

“Because,” he started with a menacing smile. “The absolute tosser is the same as the rest of the lot there. A liar. A rich fuck who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. I’ll be damned if I ever let that bastard have me as their queen.”

“You don’t even know him!” Alfred cried in return, searching for anything to tell him Arthur could be convinced to let down some of his hatred for who he really was. His hand gripped tightly around Arthur's in an attempt to ground himself.

“Ha! I know more than enough to know he is no different than the rest. I’d very well skin the coddled prick alive before I would ever marry him.” 

Arthur meant it, the prince could see it in his eyes. He’d fight to his last breath to avoid being his queen.

“What about the goddess?” Alfred whispered hopelessly.

“What about her? That she’s playing a fun, little game with us mortals and those royal dumbasses are too far up their own righteous asses to see that? Are you seriously trying to tell me that you believe She marked _me_ with a good heart? Are you forgetting how we even met? What I’ve done to you?” Arthur challenged. He was not a good man, he knew that for a fact. He had done countless things he could never take back no matter how he tried to repent his sins.

“No, I haven’t forgotten.” Alfred replied, clasping the other man’s hand in his and bringing it up between them so he could hold it with both of his. “But that doesn’t change a thing. Why do you insist on thinking you’re a bad person?”

“I am a bad person, you idiot!” Arthur tried to pull his hand away but Alfred only held it tighter in his grasp. 

“You’ve done some bad things but I know you aren’t a bad person. You’ve been forced to become something you never asked for, I understand that. It’s a lot to ask of you to become queen.” Alfred pulled the Brit’s hand closer and leaned in to pepper his fingers with light kisses. 

Arthur stared at him with wide eyes, though he was still very much fuming. “Stop doing that!” He hissed.

“Doing what? Kissing you?” Alfred asked, the thought of rejection stinging his words sadly.

“That! Why the hell are you so bloody nice? Even after everything?” After all the yelling, the degrading, and even using his body for a night of pleasure, the younger boy was still by his side. Arthur couldn’t wrap his head around it and the dizziness from it made his mind swirl in confusion.

“Oh,” Alfred let himself smile, a harsh contrast to the glaring Brit looking back at him. “Because...I think I’m falling in love with you.”

To say Arthur’s eyes went wide would be an understatement. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, staring at the taller man as if he had three heads and a tail. As if he were completely insane, because he had to be to say something that ridiculous. 

“I know you told me not to develop feelings but...you can’t really help who you fall in love with, you know?” Alfred blushed and shrugged sheepishly, blue eyes glancing to the side. “And I understand you don’t want that. I know...you like your solitude. But I also know you enjoy tea, and roses, and reading. I love knowing that about you, even if you don’t want to know things about me. That’s okay, as long as you’re happy then I’m happy.”

The prince watched the other with hopeful eyes, carefully weighing the emotions rapidly shifting across Arthur’s face. Eventually, the Brit shook his head but his mouth didn’t attempt to make any words.

“It’s alright. Like I said, I just want you to be happy.” Alfred reiterated gently. As much as he wished Arthur would return his feelings, he knew that asking for that was next to a miracle even without the Brit knowing his secret identity. “But, you’re not completely happy.” He said without warning, noticing the furrow deepening on Arthur’s brow. “You aren’t completely happy and I have a feeling the royal family is the cause...are you willing to tell me why? What all that talk about Jokers and lies were? I want to help you.”

“You can’t help me!” Arthur blurted out.

“Try me.” He replied easily. 

Once again the only sound was that of the waves dragging across the sand. It went on that way, with Arthur glaring daggers at the secret prince but not making any attempt to pull his hand out of his strong grip. 

The Brit’s face scrunched up in an array of pained emotions. Namely anger, as his scowl deepened the more he thought back on what led him to hate the Spades so fervently. If Alfred wanted the truth so badly, then let him have it. 

“Your royals murdered my family.” Arthur finally answered, his words dry against his throat. 

Alfred’s own brows knitted together in tempered confusion. “Why would they do that?”

Arthur let out a sarcastic laugh, but his answer was swift. “Because, that’s what they do! They kill anyone who doesn’t do what they say.” 

He could see that Alfred wanted more of an explanation without him even having to say it, so he obliged. If his little captive wanted to know his past so badly then he would tell him, and he would smear his bloody truths across the faces of the king and queen as he went. 

“My family did nothing to them and they had them slaughtered like swine. All because of some old wives tales of ruin and disaster.” Arthur’s glare bore into Alfred with an unrelenting fury. For a moment, the young prince was worried the captain had figured out who he was and was planning his murder. “My brothers and my mother died so that Peter and I could live. Your damned King and Queen ordered the death of a child hardly old enough to write his own name! For what? Because of some mark on his skin, he’s supposed to be a monster? He wasn’t! He _isn’t_ a monster! But they couldn’t bother themselves long enough to see that, once they heard he had a Joker’s mark they ordered him to die.”

Alfred stared at Arthur in confusion and worry. The captain was riled up but he held fast to his hand, doing his best to run his thumb over his pale knuckles in an attempt to relax him. Slowly, the pieces were coming together. “Peter...is a Joker?” He hoped he didn’t sound too hesitant. 

Those green eyes snapped to him with a determined glower. “Peter is the child your royals want dead even though he has done nothing wrong.” He corrected sharply. “My older brothers stayed to fight off the guards and were shot down as we fled. My mother brought us to the pier and stowed us away on a ship no one else dared to go near. Every bit of coin she had saved went to begging a pirate captain to allow us passage on his ship. But the royal guards were drawing near, leaving the broken bodies of my older brothers in their wake.”

The waves against the sand bristled to life, their soft caresses quickly shifting into a hard pound. The wind grew stronger, threatening to push them from where they sat perched on the rocks. Alfred recognized this sudden shift in power but didn’t say anything, he just allowed Arthur to continue.

“My mother knew they’d find us, so she left me and Peter on the boat. She ran back onto land, bow in her hand, to distract the guards long enough so I could take Peter and escape. Then, they killed her too...but it worked. We escaped and became pirates ourselves to survive against a kingdom that hates us.” It was rough at first, no doubt. But through hard work, Arthur earned his keep and then worked even harder so he could earn young Peter’s as well. Thankfully, pirates had a knack for avoiding the navy so that was one worry they didn’t have to stress too much on.

“We came back here eventually, after I became a captain with my own crew. We found where they had buried the bodies and moved them back home.” Arthur explained. “But then, of course, that couldn’t be it. No, now I’m supposed to be some dress up doll for Spadian nobility that want nothing more than to see my brother dead.”

“It might not have to be that way, maybe we can convince them to compromise.” Alfred offered, unconvincingly. Arthur sent him a nasty glare.

“What the hell are you supposed to do? You don’t hold power over what they do. You’re as much of a disposable body as any other poor sod to them.” He nearly growled, making Alfred close his mouth. He couldn’t tell him the truth. “They’d strip me of everything if they could. If I let my guard down for just one second too long they’ll dispose of Peter like it was nothing. Me being marked as the future queen means nothing. It’s all for show, surely you’ve realized this? They don't want me, they just want the body with the mark on it.”

Alfred felt his mouth go dry.

What was he supposed to say? He wanted to plead with Arthur and tell him things didn’t have to be that way. But, how could he do that without revealing himself?

Then there was the issue of Peter. He held no doubt in his mind that he still adored the kid to death and wouldn’t want anything to happen to him. He was certain he could convince his parents to spare him and, in time, they would care about him as well. But that didn’t change the fact he had never known about him in the first place. His parents had ordered his death without Alfred ever even knowing a Joker had been found at all.

The trust he felt for his own mother and father was wavering. What else could they be lying about? And out of all things, how could they lie to him about Arthur?

“Artie,” Alfred’s grip on the slender hand tightened and he brought it closer to his lips, peppering it with soft kisses once more. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll be your hero, don’t worry.”

Arthur let out a mocking laugh, but Alfred was determined to prove he was telling the truth.

“I know you don’t need me. I told you already, you’re strong on your own. But I still want to fight for you anyway.” He was serious, catching the other blonde’s gaze and holding it for a long moment. 

“You truly are a ridiculous git, you know that?” Arthur replied with a slight smile, his words holding no malice. The wind around them calming to a cool breeze and the waves slowing back to their previous peacefulness. The British captain himself was visibly more calm despite the words he spoke. 

This made Alfred smile warmly in return.

“So you’ve told me.” The prince chuckled, leaning in to capture Arthur’s lips on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene with the song was not originally planned, but as I listened to it in my free time, I realized it fit this story very well. 
> 
> The lyrics I chose to include are meant to be symbolic of Arthur not fearing his own death (and more loosely seeing it as a mercy, compared to being forced to live a life he doesn't want as queen). It also expresses his repressed regrets and his acknowledgement that he knows, as a pirate, he has done many bad things that he isn't exactly proud of. Then, the lines about fate are an ode to the destiny he and Alfred share, even though he doesn't know it (yet).
> 
> Hopefully this makes sense!
> 
> \----
> 
> I also want to thank everyone for the wonderfully sweet comments they leave, I read them all and they make me so happy! I'm very glad people are enjoying this story so far! ^^


	14. Betrayal (some nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The NSFW in this chapter isn't super explicit (imo) and isn't super long so it can easily be skipped if that's not your thing! 
> 
> On a side note, I hope ya'll are buckled up because a lot happens in this chapter lol

Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist and pulled him against him, only encouraged by the Brit’s hands roaming over his chest and shoulders. When the need for air became too much to ignore, he pulled away but quickly nuzzled against the captain’s neck instead. 

The younger man left a trail of affection across it before standing up, bringing Arthur up with him, wrapped securely in his arms.

“W-What? What are you doing?” The shorter man balked, taken aback by the fact Alfred so easily lifted him up and was carrying him away. “Where the hell do you think you’re taking me?” He complained, pushing at his shoulders to give him a slight glare.

Despite this, Alfred could clearly see the tint of red across his captain’s face. He grinned down at him in his arms, easily keeping him in his hold. “Just to a more comfortable spot. You gotta trust me, Artie.” 

The rocks they had been sitting on did have a wonderful view, but they weren’t exactly the most comfortable thing. So, he decided to move them to the plump grass edging the beach and he plopped himself down on it. The motion brought the older man down with him and Alfred easily pulled him safely onto his lap, circling his arms around his waist once more.

He grinned smugly at the pirate straddled across his lap and pulled him closer so he could continue kissing against his neck. He pressed his lips tenderly to his throat, biting down in spots he had learned earned him the most reactions. Slowly he started running his hands across Arthur’s body, squeezing him at his hips and satisfied with the vocal response it gave him.

Alfred slowly ran his hands up and down the pirate’s thighs, over his chest under his shirt, and gripped his hips to grind him down onto him. 

Arthur encouraged his servant’s touches by rocking against him to cause some friction.

“You are so gorgeous,” Alfred breathed against his neck. “Smart, strong, _and_ nice on the eyes? _Fuck, Arthur_ that’s just not fair.”

The Brit rolled his eyes. “I’m already on your lap, there’s no need to do that.”

“Do what?” Alfred pulled back so he could look at the other, but his hands stayed firmly on his hips. The confusion clear on his face. “No need to do what? Compliment you? But I want to.” He nuzzled back into that pale neck, now blemished with teeth marks and dark spots from his teasing. “It’s all true so why shouldn’t I tell you?”

Arthur really didn’t have a comeback so he just hummed, the vibrations sending chills through Alfred’s lips still placed on his throat. He could feel Alfred’s eagerness already and couldn’t stop himself from letting out a breathy chuckle. 

This caused Alfred to peek up at him through lidded eyes, giving him a lopsided smile as if it were the most natural thing in the world to look at his captain that way.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

“Hmm...I was just wondering,” Arthur ran his hands down Alfred’s front, reveling in the feeling of the strength that lied under his fingers even through the fabric of his shirt. “When were you going to notice we don’t have any oils with us?”

For a few, quiet moments, Arthur swore he could see the gears in Alfred’s head turning until realization visibly dawned on him. 

“O-Oh, shit. You’re right. We could, uhh--” He hadn’t thought that part through. Then again, he hadn’t asked Arthur to come to the beach with him just so they could sleep together so the thought to bring any lubrication hadn't even popped up. He had only wanted some peaceful time with the captain before they had to board the ship again. Not that Alfred was complaining about this outcome, but this did throw quite the wrench in this new plan.

Arthur laughed again, a little louder this time, and Alfred couldn’t help but stop and listen, his goofy smile returning as he did. 

“I love your laugh.” He admitted freely as Arthur grinned at him with a cocked brow.

“You must love giving compliments as well.”

“To you, yes.” Alfred’s smile widened and he pressed a few kisses to Arthur's face, covering his cheeks and nose with affection. His thumbs ran gentle circles across his waist as he did so. 

For a while, Alfred was content to just hold Arthur close to him like this. He was surprised when the captain didn’t make a move to get off him since the passion had been halted by a lack of preparation. But, for some strange reason unknown to Alfred, the pirate seemed just as content to simply lean against him and rest his shaggy head lazily on his shoulder. Alfred traded his heated strokes for loving pets, carting his fingers through the other’s blonde hair. 

“You know,” the prince said into the quiet. “I had a brother too.”

The words were not lost on Arthur and he stiffened slightly. “Had?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah...” Alfred started, rubbing a hand lazily along the pirate’s spine. Arthur wondered to himself if it was the boy trying to comfort himself more than anything by the gesture. 

“So...when I was little, I had a brother. He was my best friend...really my only friend, now that I think about it.” As a prince he didn’t have many opportunities to make actual, lasting friendships. He was friendly, sure, and his people adored him for the most part. But, it also made it difficult to really connect on a personal level when everyone around you either feared overstepping their boundaries or wanted to take advantage of your wealth. 

“You seem like the type of lad who would have had a lot of friends.” Arthur commented from his spot against his shoulder and Alfred could feel the man’s warm breath against his skin.

The prince laughed a little bit, but was careful not to move too much lest their comfortable position be ruined. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I was always surrounded by people, but none of them really _knew_ me, ya know?” Arthur made a small sound that Alfred took as agreement so he continued. “Anyway, Mattie--that’s my brother’s name--went missing a couple years ago...” 

Arthur noticed the premature silence and shifted in the other man’s hold, angling himself so he could instead peer up at him without having to move too much. He looked at the sullen smile on his captive’s face as he stared off into nothing, most likely reminiscing old memories he shared with his sibling before his disappearance. He often did the same thing when he thought about his own, deceased family.

“You never found out where he went?” Arthur willed himself to ask, despite knowing Alfred probably didn’t want to talk about this. Then again, if he didn’t, he never would have brought it up. He could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke about his brother but something pulled Arthur to know more.

“No...he disappeared without a trace. There wasn’t any sort of sign of a struggle or anything, so we held out hope for a while that he just ran away and would come back home on his own but...it’s been so long and we haven’t heard a word from him. I don’t know what to think anymore.” He admitted slowly. “I don’t know where he is or if he’s okay...I don’t know if he’s even alive and if he is, why’d he leave? Without telling anyone? Even me? We were so close and yet, suddenly...I was alone without anyone at all.”

Arthur wasn’t sure what the wrenching feeling in his chest was, all he knew was he felt the need to wrap his arms around the body that encased him. Without a sound he lifted his arms and curled them around Alfred’s waist. His gesture didn’t go unappreciated as he heard a soft, relieved sigh escape his servant’s mouth. He was surprisingly content to just sit there while holding each other for a while, still resting his head atop the bigger man’s shoulder. He allowed his eyes a moment of rest as he breathed in the warm scent that was Alfred’s skin as his nose lightly grazed against his neck, picking up on hints of spice and earth. 

Never before had he felt as relaxed with someone as he did in this moment. It was a little strange at first, he had to admit to himself. He was an unlawful criminal, after all, he didn’t spend his time cuddling. At most he had one-night stands to satisfy his needs and went on his way, but something about Alfred pulled him in and he couldn’t help but settle neatly in his arms like he was made to do it. 

The reality of these foreign feelings scared Arthur, if he was being truthful.

He could fight and he could die and he wouldn’t blink an eye at that fact, save for his need to protect Peter. But opening up to a man that claimed to love him? That was a feat Arthur found terrifying for all different reasons. Memories of loss mixed together with new, bright feelings of warmth inside his chest. He needed to be cautious lest he feel that pain again of losing someone he cared about.

“We should move,” The Brit voiced but he stayed still as ever. “It’s getting late and we can’t stay on the island long...the navy will find us if we do.” It was the sad reality that he couldn’t stay longer, but breathing in the familiar air of his family’s home gave him some sense of nostalgic comfort. “Let’s get back to the house and sleep. We have to depart in the morning.”

Alfred reluctantly unwrapped his arms from Arthur’s smaller frame but did move just yet. Instead, he leaned back and looked at him quietly. 

Arthur allowed the larger man to pull back, but gave him a questioning look as the other simply stared at him. “What?” He asked, a foreign feeling of self-consciousness washing over him under those eyes. Why was Alfred looking at him like that?

“Just thinking.” Alfred answered before he leaned forward again but this time pressed a kiss into Arthur’s messy, blonde hair. “But you’re right, let’s get back.”

Arthur nodded, doing his best to ignore the heaviness in his gut as he stood up. He waited for Alfred to follow suit before they both headed back towards the dimly lit house on the hill.

With his eyes focused more on Alfred and the small building in the distance, Arthur failed to notice the ships circling like vultures on the horizon.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

The next morning was busy with Arthur forcing Peter and Alfred to wake up. The British captain stubbornly ignored their pleas for “five more minutes” and eventually tore the covers off the larger man who gave a slight shriek as the cold air hit his skin.

After the fight of getting the other two blondes up, they were on their way back towards town. It was still quite early but many of the shops were already open and Arthur allowed Peter to stop into a bakery to pick out something sweet for breakfast. The childish pout Alfred gave him until he relented and also allowed him to pick something out as well was almost familiar to him now. 

“So, the people here really don’t mind you being here?” Alfred asked as they walked through the streets slowly coming alive with people.

“No, not really. I think they know I won’t let my crew do anything here. Really all they do is drink at the bars and that’s good for business.” Arthur explained. “I also pay for someone to keep the house clean and the graves tended to while we’re away. So, as long as no one starts trouble, all we do is toss a good, few coins their way.”

It had been awkward at first, but eventually the townspeople accepted Arthur’s crew once they realized they paid well and didn’t start any fights. The captain himself was polite enough to everyone he met and was quick to give away his coin in exchange for making sure his childhood home was taken care of, so it was a win-win for the town as a whole. It was business.

“I guess that makes sense.” Alfred replied, still rather curious about the whole arrangement but it explained a few things at least.

They continued on their way and when they were back on the ship, Alfred was almost sad to leave the small town behind. He had enjoyed the place Arthur grew up and felt there was a lot there he could have explored about the shorter man. 

What had he been like before he was forced to become a pirate? What did he want to do in life before then? If Peter had never been found out as a Joker and his family spared, would Arthur have willingly become his queen? Would his family like him?

Questions floated around his head even after they parted the dock and he watched Arthur and Peter on the deck, staring as their past grew into a hazy blur in the distance.

The rest of the crew busied themselves with their usual work, but Alfred stuck by the Brit’s side, quietly trying to bring some sort of comfort to him. The somber look on the smaller man’s face tore his heart in two, but the Brit still turned and gave him a small smile despite the hurt behind his green eyes.

Alfred swore then and there that he would make sure Arthur could visit his homeland as often as possible. He would do anything to see that blissful look in his future-husband’s eyes as much as he could.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

A couple days passed out on the open sea and Alfred was glued to Arthur more than ever before. Rather than sending the prince off to do menial tasks with the rest of the crew when he didn’t need him, the British captain allowed him to sit with him instead. 

Alfred took these private moments with an obvious enthusiasm, even if all he did was sit and watch Arthur read or work through some papers. He wasn’t bothered at all by the lack of action and took the time together for everything it was worth.

“What are you reading about?” Alfred asked when Arthur was curled up on his bed, book in his hands. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Arthur would’ve thought he’d be annoyed by someone interrupting his novel, and to a point he guessed he was, but something about Alfred’s genuine curiosity about something he was enjoying was endearing in and of itself. The sentiment was so purely Alfred that Arthur couldn’t make himself be upset about being disturbed and indulged the blue-eyed man with the story, not failing to notice the interest sparkling in his eyes as he listened attentively. 

Arthur found himself smiling the whole time, something he hadn’t done in a long time.

He couldn’t believe it.

This was too good to be true.

“Why don’t you come here? I think I’m finished reading for now.” The Brit offered as he set his book on the nightstand and shifted to make more room on the bed.

Alfred practically jumped at the opportunity, always seeming to get excited whenever Arthur allowed him to get close. Even if they weren’t intimate, Alfred relished in being able to touch the fiery Brit in any way possible. 

Arthur could only laugh as the younger male quickly sat beside him and instantly a protective arm was draped around his smaller waist, blue eyes staring down at him expectantly innocent.

“Good boy,” Arthur all but purred, running his slender fingers through that wheat blonde hair and earning himself a wide smile from the man beside him. “You’ve been exceedingly well-behaved, I think you’ve more than earned a bit of a reward. Don’t you?” 

“Is that mercy I hear from the great Captain Kirkland?” Alfred grinned playfully, his arm tightening ever so slightly around his waist.

Arthur let out another small chuckle, his fingers now running along the tan man’s jaw. “You’ll think that until I have you screaming for me, love.” He whispered, reaching over to push his lips against Alfred’s.

The prince was quick to respond, leaning in himself and meeting Arthur halfway into the kiss. His tongue traced the edges of his lips and when the opportunity was given, he pushed it deeper and into the pirate’s mouth to explore. Arthur tasted like tea and sea salt, not much to Alfred’s surprise. It was a mixture that, under any other circumstances, he probably would have grimaced at. But, somehow with Arthur, he wanted nothing more but to indulge himself with that taste on his lips as he devoured him whole.

He rolled them over, deepening the kiss as he hovered over his lover with ease. One hand held himself up but the other busied itself by snaking into Arthur’s shirt. 

Within a matter of minutes Arthur's shirt had been discarded and their arms were around each other again. Alfred bit marks down Arthur’s neck and chest, taking his time on spots that made the Brit sigh in want. 

“You take your sweet time, don’t you?” Arthur breathed out, hands tangled in Alfred’s hair as the man in question assaulted his chest with more kisses.

Alfred chuckled, his breath hot against the most recent love mark he’d created. “Can’t help it, I love fawning over you. How can I rush when you look so good all marked up by me?” He lifted his head so he could grin down at Arthur’s red face. “Don’t be so impatient, you know it’ll be worth the wait, Captain Kirkland.”

“Heh, you’re a right cocky prick in bed, aren’t you?” Arthur smirked up at him, already panting slightly from the attention his body was being given.

Alfred laughed again and gave a shrug. “You don’t seem to mind much.” Once more Alfred took his time planting kisses and bites across the snowy skin of his captain. His hands worked quickly to undo the pirate’s belt and he slid his pants off with relative ease. 

It was easy enough to work his own shirt off, throwing it to the floor without a care of where they went. Then, he was on Arthur again, running his hands along the newly revealed skin and marking the pale flesh at every angle. That was, until he felt nails digging into his back, drawing him upwards again and into a heated kiss.

“Why don’t you get undressed and we can really have some fun?” The captain breathed against his servant’s ear. He bit the sensitive lobe and pulled it with his teeth.

Alfred’s breath hitched at the feeling, but he was absentmindedly undoing his own belt all the same. “We’ll worry about me later. I’m more focused on pleasing my captain right now.” 

He wasn’t exactly lying, but in the back of his mind he knew better than to allow Arthur to remove his trousers and see the mark. If he saw it now before Alfred could explain himself then all this time would be wasted because Arthur would absolutely _hate_ him and he would have no way to win him back. 

To ease his captain’s annoyed frown at his response, Alfred leaned back down and kissed his way down his chest to his stomach and eventually along the insides of his thighs. The satisfied sighs escaping the Brit’s lips was a good indication that he was doing a fairly good job at ‘pleasing his captain’. 

Still, he wasn't exactly satisfied with just gentle moans. He wanted so much more from that wonderful, accented voice.

It was easy to envelope his mouth against the pirate’s length, obviously surprising the man who bucked under him. He ran his tongue along it and he must have been doing something right when Arthur’s hands suddenly twisted in his hair as if for dear life. 

His hands never slowed from their pace, dancing along the skin of Arthur’s inner thighs and spread his legs out wider with little protest.

Alfred separated himself from the panting Brit with a smug smirk, raising an eyebrow at the flustered face of the man below him. That was more of the look he was going for, completely undone with pleasure. 

He reached up again to press his lips to Arthur's jaw and cheek, muttering softly to him all the while. “Gods, you’re so gorgeous, you know that?” His only response was an impatient moan, making him chuckle huskily. “You’re beyond perfect...I love you.” he murmured against the pale skin of his jaw and towards his ear.

Amidst his vocal affections, Alfred had the mind to reach over and open the small drawer of the bedside table. He fumbled around in it blindly until he felt the familiar bottle of oils and pulled it out, lifting himself up so he could properly open it. When he did, the scent of roses filled the heavy air and his blue eyes easily caught the way green ones bore into his every movement.

He quickly poured the cool liquid onto his fingers, rubbing it between them to warm it up a bit before he lowered his head again. Once more, he trapped the other man in his mouth, a loud moan escaping Arthur from the sudden warmth around him. Alfred was pleased with it as he brought it oiled hand under them both and easily found Arthur’s entrance. He was careful not to hurt him as he pushed his finger inside, his mouth doing wonderfully sinful things to him surely didn’t hurt either.

After a couple more fingers, Alfred could tell when he was hitting that sweet spot inside him. Arthur’s hips jerked upward and forced himself deeper into his throat, not that Alfred particularly minded. After a while Arthur looked just about ready to pop, so Alfred pulled his hand and his mouth away before he could finish.

“Y-you git! Why would you stop?” Arthur almost whined at the loss, shifting his hips against the sheets.

“We’ve barely even begun, love.” Alfred cooed back at the glaring Brit. The pirate looked about ready to rip him in half for all his teasing, but his face was so delectably red. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like forepl--AH!”

He was cut off by the scowling captain roughly pushing on his shoulders, forcing him sideways and onto the bed instead. Dazed and more than a little confused, it took a second for him to realize he was now lying back on the bed and Arthur was straddled on top of him. 

“You talk too much,” Arthur smirked down at his wide-eyed captive. He rolled his hips down against the other’s still clothed crotch and grinned at the groan that resulted in it. “You had your fun, it’s time I’ve had mine now. Don’t you think, _love_?” He chuckled, his hands already gripping Alfred's undone belt and pulling it out of its loops. Next, he quickly undid the buttons and pulled down the younger man’s pants just enough to reveal exactly what he was after.

Arthur wasted no time in rutting against it, drawing out a long moan from both himself and the male under him. He felt strong hands grip his hips and it only encouraged him to continue. 

Thankfully, Alfred had the mind to not only tease but actually stretch him properly, so Arthur took the oil and slathered it across the other man’s length for extra precaution. Next, he lifted himself up, assisted by the hands still gripping encouragingly at his sides. Slowly, he sank down further and further until he was completely filled. He shivered slightly at the intrusion, his neck turned upward as he panted into the hot air and waited for his body to adjust.

“You take me so good, babe.” 

Arthur had to fight back a smirk at that particular nickname. It wasn’t one Alfred had used yet and it was surprisingly casual compared to all the others. His answer was a slow roll of his hips that caused the secret prince to groan and tilt his own head back from the pleasure.

Once he was ready, Arthur planted his palms against the bigger man’s chest and lifted his body, only to quickly bring it back down repeatedly until he found a good rhythm. The bed creaked under the motion, the cries of the wood mixing in with the growing pants and moans of the two men on top of it.

“F-Fuck, Arthur. Gods, you’re so good. You feel so good.” Alfred breathed quickly, unable to tear his eyes off the way the other man bounced above him. He was already dripping with sweat and he wasn’t sure he’d last too long with the way Arthur was moving against him. Instinctively, he bucked his hips up and got a pleasured cry from the pirate riding him. He must’ve hit that sweet spot again.

Doing his best to aim, Alfred thrusted his hips up to meet Arthur’s, trying to hit that spot over and over that made the pirate a blissful mess. He must’ve been doing a damn good job of it too, because Arthur’s noises were growing louder and louder by the second.

“Oooooh, fuck, shit, _fuckshit_!” The Brit cried out under the pressure, his hips becoming more sporadic and less coordinated than before as he reached his end. “Oh gods, oh gods. Alfred, Al--!” He shook with the pressure of a hand wrapping around his leaking length.

Alfred pumped Arthur to the rhythm of their thrusts the best he could and it didn’t take long to feel the captain tensing up around him and warm liquid covered his hand as he continued to move it.

Arthur rode out his orgasm with a few more, quick jerks of his hips and felt when Alfred finished inside of him easily enough. He settled down, sinking onto his lap with a relieved sigh as strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him close into a warm chest. Gentle kisses pressed into his sweaty hair but still he felt his eyes flutter closed, for once completely willing to put down his guard and allow himself to feel safe.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

A few hours later, Arthur woke up feeling warm and still pressed against a tanned chest. Hands were idly rubbing at his side in a soothing motion. Stealing a glance upward, he could see Alfred’s face sleeping soundly as ever.

Without much thought, he carefully pushed himself upwards and closer to the sleeping man’s face. He was a sight for sore eyes, that much was true. He was handsome and toned, his blonde hair was muzzled and sweaty from the night’s activities. Arthur softly dragged his slender fingers across his strong jaw and appreciated the absolute beauty that was Alfred.

Gods, he was falling, wasn’t he?

The thought alone scared him but at the same time he felt so warm he didn’t have the will to pull himself away. 

He was Captain Arthur Kirkland of the terrifying Siren’s Arrow! He was meant to be feared and respected! 

And yet, oh and yet...here he was, wrapped in a young man’s arms that held more promise than just a simple night of pleasure. 

Where had Alfred come from? The capital, of course, but Arthur was fairly certain he must’ve been sent from the Divines themselves. He wasn’t meant to find happiness in the arms of another, _and yet_ he was.

He shifted once more to curl up into that warm body, lazily setting his head on that broad chest and listened to the gentle hum of Alfred’s heart beneath his ear. His green eyes blinked sleepily out into the room, the rocking of the ship more than enough to will him back to sleep against the other man. It was picture perfect.

And yet. 

Arthur’s brows knitted together tiredly, hardly an effort at all but he found his curiosity peaked. As his eyes tiredly followed the trail of Alfred’s body, across his chest, his strong arms, and his stomach, he stopped searching suddenly when a peculiar darkness peaked out from under the boy’s trousers. 

He had a tattoo?

He hadn’t mentioned having one before but, then again, the topic had never really come up either. Still, he couldn’t say he wasn’t just a bit curious. 

A bit more awake now than before, he leaned up once more and tugged at the waist line of Alfred’s pants to get a better view.

Maybe it was something embarrassing? Am ex-lovers name, perhaps? Arthur almost snickered at the thought of teasing Alfred with something that scandalous.

Or, what if it was an ode to his lost brother? Much like Arthur named his ship, it wouldn’t be uncouth to think one might ink their skin in memory of someone they missed.

All these possibilities crossed Arthur’s mind as he leaned up and pulled at the cloth shielding the dark ink on his lover’s hip. He took only a second to appreciate the definition of his body there before the mark was fully unveiled. 

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat and he froze.

Sitting there, just under Alfred’s hip bone, was a shape Arthur knew all too well. It matched perfectly to the one staining his own back that he had tried more than once to claw off like a desperate animal. But no matter what he tried, the mark remained perfectly dark against his pale skin. 

And now, here was Alfred, with the same mark right where the spoiled prince was said to have his. 

This wasn't happening.

His sweet, naive, loving, foolish, utterly _stupid_ Alfred was the same man he hated from the castle. His Alfred was the prince he swore he wanted to kill. The reality of it knocked the air from his lungs.

“No.” The word escaped Arthur’s lips so quietly he almost didn’t think he said them at all. The warm air of the room quickly dropped to an icy chill, stirring the heat loving body of the prince awake with discomfort.

“Hng, Artie?” Alfred whined tiredly, rubbing at his eyes to wipe away the sleepiness in them. He finally opened them to find Arthur staring down, his emerald gaze wide and disbelieving. Alfred followed to where he was looking and a chill ran down his spine when he saw his revealed Spade mark.

“H-Hey, Artie, it’s alright.” He broke the stiff silence with a forced smile, but his nervousness was clear as day in his tone. “Come on, we can talk--” He reached his arms out to wrap around the smaller man and bring him close, but was violently rejected by Arthur hitting his face and scrambling away.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” The captain screamed, clawing his way out of the bed as if being near Alfred a second longer would burn him. “You...you bastard!”

Alfred collected himself as much as he could, the force of the hit and Arthur kicking him in an attempt to get away forcing him to sprawl across the bed messily. When he blinked away his shock, he finally looked up at the British pirate and his heart sank to his feet.

Arthur’s eyes were wide with disbelief and fury, his brows cast down in a rage and he was shaking, either from anger or shock or both. But the worst was the blatant gleam of betrayal in his eyes, the absolute hurt resting behind the anger tore into Alfred’s chest.

“Arthur, I’m sor--” He reached out again, desperate to right his wrongs. 

But Arthur was faster and as soon as Alfred’s hands were about to touch him, he grabbed one of his lover’s wrists and twisted it at a painful angle. 

“Ah! Arthur, stop!” Alfred had to twist his entire body to relieve some of the pain shooting from his twisted arm. “Arthur, just listen! I--AH!”

This only seemed to anger the smaller man more as his grip tightened and twisted more, sending new signals of pain all throughout his captive’s body.

“You fucking liar.” Arthur snarled, pushing Alfred with enough force to send him stumbling backwards against a dresser. The bigger man gasped at the pain as the wood shoved into his spine. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. You’re a lying prick just like the rest of them. I’m so fucking stupid to think for even a moment that I could trust _anyone_.” 

Except for Peter, Arthur really was utterly alone. This was evident now more than ever.

How could he have ever let himself fall this hard?

Alfred hissed at what would no doubt be a bruise on his back later, but right now the bigger problem was the man glaring him down. It would’ve been comical to see Arthur standing there angry but still completely naked, if it wasn’t for the fact he was dead meat if he didn’t calm him down.

“Arthur, I’m sorry! I wasn’t trying to lie to you, I really do care about you. I wanted to tell you but I knew you’d be upset.” Alfred tried to reason, but as he took a step closer, Arthur’s rage built higher.

The Brit lifted his hand, a nasty snarl revealing his teeth in a predatory way. His magic built and Alfred felt himself being pulled by invisible chains towards the wall, his legs and arms being dragged behind him. 

“A-Arthur, wait!” Alfred begged, fear suddenly gripping him as he was pulled backwards by a force he couldn’t see. He didn’t need to, he knew it was magic.

A dark laugh echoed through the room. “Upset?” Arthur grinned. It was the same, sadistic feature that glared down at Mathias at The King’s Grave. The same, violent look that practically mutilated a man’s mouth and tore his tongue to pieces until he was gagging up blood. 

Alfred swallowed back his terror at seeing that grin and those murderous eyes focused on him.

“I’m so much more than ‘upset’, love.” Arthur stepped forwards and for the first time, Alfred shrinked back away from him. “To think, my dear ‘future husband’ has been here all this time? Right under my nose, no less. How clever.” The Brit picked up his clothes that had been haphazardly thrown to the floor the night before. He was painstakingly slow as he pulled them back on, taking his time to let Alfred soak in the reality of his situation. “You really left the safety of the castle to come find me by yourself? That’s so...stupid of you, darling. I thought you were smarter than that, at least.”

Alfred couldn’t stop himself from shaking. This wasn’t right! Arthur wasn’t supposed to look at him that way, not like he was a monster. He was supposed to forgive him, which he knew wouldn’t be easy, but he wouldn’t even get the chance to try to earn it if the captain ripped him apart piece by piece first.

“A-Artie, please.” He croaked out, the magical binds starting to burn at his skin as they pulled with little mercy, trapping him in place. “Sweetheart, this isn’t you. Come on, you know I would never hurt you on purpose. Just let me explain.”

A sharp smack to the side of his face was the immediate reaction. The force of the blow would have surely knocked him to his side if the binds weren’t still holding him still. 

“Shut the fuck up, as if I’d want to listen to anything you have to say.” Arthur’s grin was gone and replaced by a deep frown. He gripped his captive’s hair in a tight fist and forced his head back, exposing his throat. 

For a moment, Arthur considered ripping it out with just his bare teeth. But that would be too quick of a death, wouldn’t it? The beloved Prince of Spades deserved something so much slower than that.

“Art...Arthur, I love you so fucking much it hurts.”

A loud thud could be heard and a pained grunt when the Brit landed another, sharp blow to his servant’s body. This time, it was a hard punch to the gut.

“I told you to shut the hell up.” Arthur growled, pulling the hair again but this time to force Alfred to look at him. He glared up into pleading, blue eyes with little remorse. “I’m going to make you beg for death.”

It was a promise Alfred could tell he meant. It’s truth sent a shiver of fear through his body.

“A-Art--”

Instead of being interrupted by another painful blow, his plea was knocked out of him by a forceful shake of the entire ship. A loud crash could be heard not too far away and the entire boat lurched violently to the side, nearly sending both men tumbling towards the floor. The distant yelling of crew members could be heard and some were screaming for their captain.

“What the bloody hell is going on now?” Arthur practically screeched in anger, obviously trying to decide whether investigating or torturing his prisoner was more important. 

“Captain! Captain! The royal navy! And--AGH!” 

The sound of a crew member yelling towards his room was ended by yet another, forceful shake of the ship and more screams.

“Shit!” Arthur cursed, turning his back on Alfred in favor of storming out to the deck.

Alfred was certain Arthur hadn’t meant to, but he felt himself be released from the magical binds and he slumped to the floor with a loud thud. Once he got his bearing, he chased after the Brit and stumbled into the chaos that was the pirate ship’s main deck. 

Around him men raced, either fighting to stay alive or to keep the ship on course. The men he had come to recognize as his fellow crew members were being slaughtered by invading uniforms he knew more than well. Spadian navy officers piled onto the foreign boat, swords and guns raised to take lives and not captives. But the pirates weren’t going down easily, bringing their own weapons against their attackers until the wood of the ship ran red with blood.

How many were there? Who should he even be hoping to win? 

He didn't want the crew he had come to know to be killed like cattle but just as well, as Prince, he couldn't wish for the death of his loyal citizens.

He loved Arthur but the man would skin him alive when this was over, no doubt. But he didn’t want him to die by the hands of a navy man either or be forcefully captured. Alfred glanced out at the invading ship and its proud display of Spadian colors, printed like a beacon on the mast and on flags littering the ship. No wonder pirates hated the royals, their symbols were plastered all over the boats trying to kill them.

But this wasn’t his main concern. No, it was only then that Alfred realized with a sharp gasp how horrible this situation truly was for Arthur and his crew.

There was not one royal ship invading them but multiple, all circling The Siren’s Arrow like vultures around a rotting meal. And in the midst of them was the most surprising thing of all, not a navy ship, but a pirate one. Completely unharmed and allowed to swim peacefully as if it belonged to the pack of hungry ships itself.

In a moment of realization, Alfred’s eyes scanned the carnage desperately, searching for any sign that Arthur was still even alive amidst the violence. 

Then, he saw him. A flash of blonde hair and furious green eyes, Arthur rammed his sword into the belly of a uniformed soldier, twisting it until he saw the life fall from his eyes. Blood already covered the captain’s body as if he had slaughtered ten men already in the short time it had taken Alfred to find him, and perhaps he had. If the speed in which Arthur dug his blade into an invader with no hesitation was any indication, he was certain the navy men were being cut down by the second.

But Alfred still had to get to him, he had to keep Arthur safe. He had promised! As angry as Arthur was with him, he was not about to let him be killed by his royal soldiers.

“Arthur!” He yelled, his cries drowning in the sea of men screaming in pain or fury. He narrowly dodged a falling body and stumbled out of its way, having to step over it in order to continue his pursuit. “Arthur!” He called again once he was closer, dragging himself between bodies covered in sweat, blood, and gunpowder.

The British captain either didn’t hear him or ignored him on purpose, choosing instead to push his sword into the throat of an unfortunate victim. 

“You bastards! Get the hell off my ship!” 

Arthur lifted his hand again and this time it glowed a hazy blue, and with it the waters of the seas themselves lifted and rocked the ship with them. Alfred barely had time to hold onto something before the movement shook him around the bloodied deck like a rag doll. Not unnoticed, he saw several men fall overboard and into the sea. None were pirates, so they must’ve known about this particular trick and prepared themselves for it. Arthur was not shy about using magic to win this battle.

“Arthur!” He tried again as he pulled himself closer to the green-eyed man, this time receiving a dangerous glare in return. 

“This was your doing!” The captain accused, his crimson stained blade shining mockingly with the blood of his people was then turned on him. “You did this!”

“No! Arthur, I swear!” Alfred tried to fight back against the false claim. He hadn’t done this but it did beg the question of who did? He knew enough about their navy to know that this many royal ships together were not commonplace, so this wasn’t just a random encounter. This was an ambush.

There was another crash and the ship creaked under the pressure of another blow. Looking back, Alfred could see the pirate ship he had spotted now up close and personal as it connected itself to The Siren's Arrow. It’s crew members spilling out onto Arthur’s ship with blood thirst in their eyes.

“Fuck!” Arthur yelled, rushing towards the newest onslaught with his weapon raised.

“No!” Alfred pleaded, following as quickly as he could but he wasn’t as accustomed to the quick rocking of the ship as Arthur was. Through the gun smoke and struggling bodies, he could see Arthur ending more lives than he could ever hope to count in this chaos. 

And yet, it wasn’t enough. 

More navy ships grew closer, more enemies jumped on board. Soon, it was too much. The Siren’s Arrow was overrun.

“You fuckers!” Another flash of light, no doubt Arthur’s magic, and a number of the invading navy men and pirates were cut down. And still, more boarded and took their place with more murder in their eyes than the last.

This wasn’t good, they were being overwhelmed. Even Arthur and his magic was being bombarded with body after body and he could see the British captain starting to grow tired. 

It only ended when a loud laugh interrupted the fighting. It was a laugh he knew and he clenched his fists in response to it.

“Well, well! This is all so nice and all, but we really do have business to attend to!” Mathias was standing there by the wheel of the ship, not far from the entrance of Arthur’s private quarters. In his grasp was a squirming Peter, writhing under his iron grip. 

“No!” Alfred heard and knew it was Arthur, desperate to keep his brother from that madman.

“Yes! You’ve been free from your fate for far too long, don’t you think, Kirkland? It’s about time you...settle down.” The Dane’s voice was slurred and almost forced, no doubt due to the torture Arthur inflicted on him. It was a wonder how he healed as well as he did, even nearly having his tongue cut off obviously wasn’t enough to keep the cocky bastard from talking. “And just so you don’t try any funny tricks.” The spiky-haired blonde raised a pistol to the younger Kirkland’s head, his intentions clear. If Arthur tried anything, he’d shoot Peter’s brains out right in front of him.

Alfred spared a worried glance back at Arthur, his green eyes now wide and pleading. No longer was he the angel of death he was just moments ago, now, he almost seemed broken.

Behind him, a man in uniform stepped forward and struck the back of the Brit’s head, causing him to release his weapon in surprise and fall forward with a grunt. Before anyone could help him, the navy man had him shackled with cuffs around his wrists.

“Now, that’s much better, isn’t it?” Mathias grinned far too wide for his face and his eyes went to the crowd that stared at him. “Let’s see...oh, there you are. Our dear, beloved Prince Alfred!” His cold gaze locked sharply on his target, causing everyone else around them to turn and stare as well.

Alfred froze in his spot. Mathias knew who he was? Since when? It didn’t really matter now, did it? Everyone knew the truth now and he was caught in the crossfire with all eyes on him.

“Be a good royal dog and step forwards, come on, where your queen can see you.” The menace was clear in the Dane’s voice and fearing for both Arthur and Peter’s safety, Alfred complied and did as he was told. 

He slowly slunk forward, only mere feet away from where Arthur was on his knees glaring at the floorboards of his ship, arms bent behind him and bound. He looked furious. He looked defeated.

“Here’s the deal, Princey.” Mathias laughed. “You’re going to get a free pass back home, isn’t that great? Your royal guards are even here to escort you _and_ your queen back to the castle. No more living on this shit hole of a ship, huh?” He laughed again and Alfred wanted to punch the sound right out of his throat. But he couldn’t, not with Peter still in his grip. “Now, be good or your little Joker here will get his head blown off. We wouldn’t want that, would we? No? Good. So here’s what you’re going to do...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooooooooo we're finally here! I honestly didn't intend for it to take this long. I'm writing a lot more chapter for this story than I originally thought I would XD


	15. Meeting the Parents

Alfred sat stock still, silent as the rocking of the ship made his head bob every so often. He was surrounded by men loyal to the Spade’s kingdom and yet he felt like he couldn’t trust any of them. Not that he felt he was in any danger himself, in fact he was in a rather comfortable position all things considered. He was sitting in a well decorated room, on a comfy chair, with food and drink at his disposal if he so much as uttered a word.

But, Arthur was not.

Despite trying to convince the navy men that Arthur hadn’t forced him into becoming a pirate and he had gone to him on his own, they treated his captain like a kidnapper. His wrists remained bound behind him, with chains Alfred quickly found out were enchanted to keep the wearer’s magic docile. 

They interrogated the Brit about the bruise forming on Alfred’s face and on his back. Which _technically_ had been from said pirate, but Alfred wasn’t angry about them at all. Arthur had the right to be mad at that moment, so he took the pain with a patient understanding. But with the way they spoke to Arthur it was like he wasn’t their future queen at all and just another, dirty criminal for them to seize and destroy. 

Worst of all, they didn’t even allow him to talk to him, even though the man was effectively tied up and thus posed no actual threat. 

He had tried repeatedly, but was blocked off from the bound blonde. He had been polite at first and asked for passage, only to be told it was too dangerous for him to be near his future queen. Talking about Arthur as if he were just some sort of wild animal sent a twinge of anger through Alfred and he raised his voice and demanded they let him through. He was their prince and they would obey his orders.

Even that didn’t work.

There were, apparently, direct commandments from the King and Queen that their son was not to let near such a savage man as Arthur Kirkland. He simply could not be trusted.

So, after several hours of trying to convince the guards to let him see Arthur, he gave up and went back to his own, designated room. They were sailing back to the main capital in one of the many royal navy ships sent to ambush Arthur and his crew. He hadn’t heard much but from his own desperate pleading he convinced them not to execute the entire pirate crew right then and there. Instead, they agreed to push their punishments down the line in favor of getting him home to safety back at the castle. As such, Arthur’s ship was also trailing behind them, its crew as useful as its captain.

He had also demanded to see Peter safe and sound, to which his sea-faring subjects almost seemed sympathetic. Almost. 

He could see the distrust gleaming in their eyes at just the mention of Peter’s name. Their pity may have come from him being just a boy but the truth of his identity as a Joker turned that sympathy into one of suspicion and hate. This must’ve been what Arthur had been talking about before, the prejudice Peter faced based on nothing but a mark on his skin he never asked for. Even him being only a child meant nothing and Alfred could tell from the subtle looks that these men wouldn’t care if Peter lived or died.

Still, they assured him that the boy was safe. And it was true that after Arthur had been imprisoned on the navy ship that Mathias had lowered his gun from Peter’s head and handed him off, not to the navy men, but to two of his own crew mates. Tino and Berwald were tasked to dutifully watch Peter and ensure he didn’t try anything fishy while they rode to the capital. 

At the time Alfred had balked, was enraged even, that the soldiers around him would allow Peter to be given willingly to a bunch of pirates, but now? Now he could see why and he truly understood what Arthur had meant. They cared little for what they saw as a monster in a child’s body.

So here Alfred sat, guarded in a nice room fit for a prince like him. But he felt far from deserving of its comfort as the sea rolled them forward to their destination.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

The return of the beloved Prince of Spades was loud and bright. People gathered by the docks and along the city streets to catch glimpses of the carriages that would be bringing the missing royal home.

They cheered when they saw him, not one taking a moment to understand why his blue eyes suddenly looked so dark. If they did, they chalked it up to being exhausted from whatever horrible life he had been living under the iron boot of Captain Kirkland. 

Decorations of Spadian Blue blinded Alfred as he rode through the streets of the city towards the castle. He was propped up on a carriage and paraded around like a god among his people and they loved it, to see their kind prince again after so long with their very own eyes. They screamed his name and waved, and Alfred did his best to smile and return the gestures of affection they gave him only for the sake of appearance. However, in the back of his mind, he was still terrified.

He knew, though he wasn’t allowed to actually see him, that Arthur rode only a few carriages behind him still bound and hidden. Thankfully the Brit wasn’t in the public’s eye like he was, which Alfred was silently grateful for because he knew the crowd’s loving cheers would be nothing short of curses and rage at the sight of the terrifying pirate. 

Soon enough, he could see the familiar sight of the castle coming into view and a chill ran down his spine. Never in his life had his home felt more cold and empty than in this moment. This was not how he envisioned bringing Arthur back home, this was more akin to walking him to the gallows rather than to his wedding vows.

Alfred didn’t get much chance to argue when Arthur was dragged away after they reached the castle. The Brit was carried off, his eyes cold and his tongue sharp against the men who pulled him out of Alfred’s sight. 

Tired as he was, the prince was set on figuring out just what the hell was going on. It was easy enough to find his parents, the king and queen made a grand display of greeting him in their throne room surrounded by adoring servants. 

But something felt off. Alfred couldn’t quite place it, but something about the look in his parents’ eyes made his skin crawl. If he didn’t know better, they almost looked predatory as they watched him with an unwavering gaze.

It wasn’t until later that he would find out why.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” The King’s face was red and tense with anger. The three of them, the king, queen, and young prince, were now alone in a small but lavishly decorated room out of public view. “You went to find that monster on your own?”

For what little credit there was, Alfred at least appreciated that his father seemed a little worried about him, in some strange way. His mother, however, was more on the teary side. 

“We were terrified! Oh my gods, we thought we lost you. You left a note saying you were leaving but didn’t tell us where, and I just--” She covered her face with her hands, muffling a sob.

“I had to! Arthur is _my_ queen, it’s only right I should convince him to come back with me.” Alfred argued but the reality of the situation boiled in his veins. That  
_isn’t_ what happened and now Arthur was being treated no better than any other criminal, if not worse. The trust he had worked so hard to build was shattered into a million, unmendable pieces. 

“He is a murderer and a coward. He runs from his own fate.” The King snarled back. 

“Don’t talk about him like that.” Alfred’s hands curled into fists at his side, a protective vice gripping him and making him shake. 

“You do not tell me what to do, boy.” Was the sharp response, a threat lingering on the edges of each word. “He may be your queen but he is no less a rot on this earth that I wish I could erase. The only thing saving him from hanging on a noose is the mark on his back and you would do very well to remember that.”

Alfred was seeing red, a fury he had never felt before. “Don’t you fucking dare--” 

Alfred was interrupted by a heavy blow to the side of his face, forcing his head to the side in an uncomfortable angle and his feet to stumble.

"Do not talk to me like that again. I am your king and your father, my say is final." The older royal glared.

Alfred brought a hand to his face and stared with disbelief. His father was never exactly the kindest man but he had never hit him before, not like that.

"You need to rest. Kirkland has obviously gotten into your mind, made you question yourself...and me." The King's frown deepened harshly at that accusation, ignoring the betrayed look on his son’s face. "Arthur Kirkland will become the next Queen of Spades but he will not be a free man to do with this kingdom as he pleases. He would very well run everything we've worked for into the ground. You will rule and Arthur will be there, but his power is no more. I have seen to it myself."

“What do you mean?” Alfred accused, voice raising despite the slight shake of his hands. 

“I mean,” the elder man started. “He will be immobilized, metaphorically speaking. We can’t quite do so physically without ruining the public image, tainted though it already is with him being a criminal...but emotionally and magically, he will be eviscerated. He will never use an ounce of magic ever again.”

“What? You can’t do that!” The horror of it struck Alfred to his core. His own parents would do that to someone? To his queen, no less? He knew how seriously Arthur took his arcane studies and the thought of the man he loved losing something so important to him made his heart ache. Arthur would absolutely be destroyed.

“I can and I will. Our mages have already begun preparing it. Kirkland’s magic will be nullified and nonexistent by the time they finish with him. Just to ensure he is no longer a threat to you or the kingdom.”

“He won’t let you do that!” Arthur would never, would he? Though he did have enchanted bonds on, he may not have a choice and it could be forced upon him. The realization made Alfred’s face pale.

“Oh, but he will. Otherwise, I’m told his younger brother is very important to him and it would be such a shame if something happened to him should Arthur act out of line.” The King stated plainly, his intent clear. He was using Peter as a pawn against Arthur and had no remorse about it once so ever.

“It will be safer this way for everyone, Alfred. Especially you.” His mother spoke now, a bit softer but her tone did little to appease her furious son. No matter how kindly she spoke, she was still on board with these monstrous claims and her sweet voice held no regret.

Suddenly, Alfred remembered what Arthur had confided in him back on The Island of Britannia. 

“You tried to have Peter killed even before all this.” The prince grit his teeth together painfully.

“We did.” His father agreed, unfazed by his son’s red-hot glares. “As would any respecting monarch in any of the kingdoms who found a Joker in their midst. You may ask them yourself, when they come to visit in just a few, short weeks. They intend to meet Arthur before the wedding takes place, as is custom.”

“ _What?_ ” Alfred practically hissed, the pain in his cheek a dull throb. “Arthur hates me now.”

“And? You knew he would hate you when you so foolishly chased after him on your own.” The King waved his hand and turned away, seemingly done with the conversation. He almost looked bored, which only served to piss Alfred off even more. “Nonetheless, the new queen is here. The wedding will commence as soon as possible.”

With that, the ruler dismissed himself and his faithful queen followed suit behind him.

Alfred had never noticed how much his mother resembled a leashed hound until that moment.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

Ignoring the pleas of several worried servants, Alfred climbed his way through the castle and to the room they had imprisoned Arthur in. It was actually a very large room and extravagantly decorated, as most of the castle was. It was a room fitting for a future queen, and he supposed that was the point. If there weren’t two armed guards standing outside the door it would’ve been easy to mistake Arthur as an esteemed guest.

And yet, Alfred came face to face with the two armored men who stood at attention and nodded respectfully upon his arrival. 

“Let me in.” Alfred deadpanned. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, resisting the urge to push the men aside himself and storm in.

“Sorry, your grace. However--”

“I don’t give a shit! You will let me in.” Alfred yelled back. “He’s already chained up, he can’t do anything!” 

Why were they acting this way? They were obviously scared and yes, he understood Arthur was a powerful and sometimes unpredictable man with a temper to match, but he was already caught. They could treat him better than this!

“I’m sorry, your highness...”

Alfred groaned and backed off. He knew trying to fight them physically was not a good option, despite his urge to push them aside and fall to his knees in front of Arthur and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t want to do that, the men were simply following orders and Alfred knew better than to think his father wouldn’t lock him up as well if he lashed out.

No, he had to be smarter.

Turning on his heel, he stormed down the hall. He knew the castle like the back of his hand and, as the mischievous young prince he was, he knew more than his fair share of secrets. Much like he knew ways to sneak out of the castle, he knew ways to sneak around in it as well. 

All he had to do was wait until nightfall.

When the sun had set, Alfred made his way to an unoccupied guest room, only one floor above the one Arthur was using. He snuck his way into the door, making sure to close it again as he entered, and ran to the window. He knew he still had to be careful, they were several stories above the ground and one wrong slip would send him tumbling to a very splattery death. But he was determined to show Arthur what he meant to him and so his own safety was disregarded in favor of getting to the grumpy captain below him.

Pushing the window open was the easy part, he tossed his legs across the window frame and carefully gripped the ledge. Slowly, he eased himself down and across the stone surface of the outside walls until he was just far enough down to drop onto the balcony below. He landed with a pained grunt, the impact hard on his knees and he flopped onto his side before he could catch himself. 

“Fuck, that hurt.” He muttered to himself, attempting to push himself up onto his elbow only for it to send a searing agony through his left side. “Shit!” He hissed, rolling to his other side and using his good arm to push himself off the ground. He took only a moment to assess the damage done, unsure if his elbow was just going to be badly bruised or if he actually had broken something in it when he landed. He didn’t have the time to care, he stood up holding his throbbing arm and pushed forward.

Arthur’s room was dark and cold as he stepped inside. Thankfully the balcony door was not locked, he figured the guards knew that even Arthur couldn’t rightly escape from so high up without the use of magic to aid him. At least, not easily.

“Arthur?” Alfred whispered into the dark room, his blue eyes searching for any sign of movement. He knew there were still guards posted dutifully outside the main door and if they heard him then his struggle to get into the room would be for nothing. “Are you asleep?”

Suddenly, a pain rang out through his head as he was hit and he stumbled a ways away from the culprit.

“Leave.” Someone snarled.

Alfred jumped at the sound ghosting right into his ear, whirling around to catch a glimpse of glaring green orbs in the dark only mere inches away from his face. 

“Arthur,” The prince spoke softly despite the pain, instantly stepping towards the familiar emeralds with his arms stretched out. “Artie, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m so sorry, I--”

“I told you to leave.” Came the cold response as the Brit stepped back and out of the other man’s reach. “I don’t care what your intentions were. I made mine perfectly clear, I didn’t want this, and you simply didn’t care.” 

As much as he didn’t want to, part of him believed Alfred hadn’t planned this. Gazing into pleading, saddened blue eyes it was easy to see that the secret royal felt a guilt unlike any other. And yet, Arthur couldn’t find it in himself to give a fuck. He had made it more than crystal clear that he did not want to be queen and had told Alfred such many times, he had even told him _why_ , which was a punch to the gut itself. Alfred knew the truth about his family and still, he lied. He used him like any royal would.

“It’s not like that,” Alfred begged softly, stepping forward again only for Arthur to mirror it and step back. “I wanted to find you on my own and to understand...understand why you didn’t want to be mine. But now I get it, and I wanted to tell you the truth but not like that, gods Arthur, never like that.” The horror stricken face when is mark was revealed was one Alfred never wanted to see on his betrothed ever again and it hurt to know that he was the reason it had appeared there in the first place.

“It doesn’t matter now, does it? You got what you wanted.” Arthur’s words were cold and made Alfred shiver.

“No!” Alfred clamped his hand over his mouth to stop himself from shouting too loud or else he would alert the guards outside the room. The last thing either of them needed was to be found out. “No, I didn’t. I want you as my queen, of course I do, but more than anything I want you to be happy with me. I can’t stand this, Arthur. I can’t stand you hating me.”

“I’m afraid you are in for a rough marriage then, _dear_.”

Alfred felt his fingers twitch, the harsh tone of Arthur’s voice striking a cord in him that he didn’t know he had. He was trying to apologize and make things right and Arthur was standing there mocking him! Without much thought, he reached out much faster this time and grabbed a hold of Arthur’s wrist and pulled.

“Oi!” The Brit started to protest but they were drowned out by lips crashing roughly into his own. His green eyes went wide in surprise at the sudden contact as Alfred’s arm then snaked around his waist and pulled him in tighter.

“Please, let me make things right.” The prince pulled back only enough to speak, his breath grazing along the shorter man’s lips as he whispered them. “I’ll fix this, I promise.”

“You can’t fix this, it’s already done.” Arthur muttered back.

“I will. I promised you, I would be your hero. Please, let me do that for you.” He ran a slow hand across the smaller man’s back, tracing his spine up and down with gentle fingers. “My father wants to...take your magic, says the royal mages are already planning some sort of nullification to take your powers away. He’s afraid of you.”

“He should be.” 

Alfred flinched at that. It wasn’t the reaction he expected, it was as if it wasn’t a surprise at all to the Brit. He expected screaming and anger, not just an icy agreement. His stunned silence must’ve been all the question Arthur needed. 

Then again, Arthur probably knew that blowing up and alerting the guards standing outside his room would end much more poorly for him than it would for Alfred.

“I know what he’s planning. The navy men who brought me here were not exactly keen on keeping secrets they thought would make me squirm.” Arthur mumbled, his lips softly moving against the side of Alfred’s jaw as he spoke. “Your father wants me to stand at your side and obey. It is exactly how I told you it would be...they want the body with the mark, but they don’t want me.”

“I want you.” Alfred corrected quickly. Despite his shock that Arthur knew his father's plans and his boiling anger that the navy personnel that brought him here were cruel enough to tease him, Alfred knew more than anything that he wanted Arthur for who he was and nothing less. 

“Until you are king, what you want doesn’t matter, and by then it will be far too late.” The pirate said in return, his head tilting down and away from the warm breath. Still, he could feel Alfred’s kisses in his hair as he turned away. “If I don’t do what they ask they will kill Peter. The only reason they haven’t yet is they know what will happen if they do.”

Alfred’s grip tightened instinctively around the other man’s waist, drawing him even closer until he was squished against his chest. 

“What will happen if Peter dies?” His voice was hesitant, barely audible at all. Deep down he knew he didn’t want the answer to the question he had just asked because he had a feeling he already knew.

Arthur didn’t answer immediately, he remained silent for a few, long moments and let the thick silence wash over them. “I won’t live if I lose Peter.” He finally voiced softly. “If I lose him, I’ve lost everything. I won’t allow myself to live if he dies.” He felt another arm wrap around him, though it was looser than the other he ignored that.

Alfred, as much as it hurt, used his injured arm to wrap around Arthur’s shoulders and into a hug. The implication that Arthur would kill himself should something happen to Peter wasn’t that surprising, but it was not something Alfred wanted to have to worry about. He planned on taking care of both of them.

For the first time, Alfred realized how small Arthur really looked in this moment. His eyes were cast down and his skin was ghostly. There was a sense of brokenness to him that had never been there before.

“I won’t let them hurt him.” He promised quickly. “I’ll be your hero, just like I said I would. Yours and Peter’s, I swear.”

“I won’t hold my breath.” Arthur muttered back, his arms still limp at his sides as if they didn’t work at all. They still did, of course, the blow to his head was proof enough of that, but for Arthur and his magic, they might as well be broken.

Realizing this, Alfred pulled back slightly and allowed his hands to roam from Arthur back down his arms. When they reached the pale wrists, he lifted them up and glared hard at the metal shackles encircling them. His face twisted into an angry sneer at the thought of Arthur’s magic being contained like this, of him being forced here and locked in a room like a cage. 

His fingers shook as he stared down at the enchanted binds on his fiance with narrow eyes, mentally cursing his father as he did so. 

“I don’t know how long we have until the mages are finished creating the nullification magic.” Alfred admitted as gently as he could, but didn’t fail to notice the way Arthur tensed up slightly. 

“They can take my magic as long as Peter stays safe.” Was the quiet reply, but his voice betrayed the pain nuzzled between the words. Arthur was terrified, but he would be strong if it meant saving his brother. He would give up anything for him.

When Arthur said nothing else on the matter and only pitifully resigned to his fate, Alfred pulled him close again and buried his nose into his messy hair. He planted soft kisses throughout it, trying his best to bring some form of comfort. “You should rest, love.” He told him. “Come on, I’ll get you to bed.”

Walking to the large bed, Alfred pulled back the covered to make room for Arthur to lie down. The man did so wordlessly, normally fiery green eyes now a dull ember of what they once were. 

“I’ll come back as soon as I can, I promise. We’ll figure this out together.” 

And he did.

After Arthur was in bed, Alfred easily snuck out the balcony and avoided the patrolling guards with a light step. He knew their routines like the back of his hand and just how to get around them. It came with being a trouble making prince, after all.

It also helped him keep his promise, returning to Arthur night after night. During the day, he tried to reason with his unrelenting father for some sort of mercy, only to receive a scolding. It frustrated Alfred to no end that he was no closer to figuring out a way to save Arthur even as several days passed and talk of visiting monarchs began bubbling up more and more. Not that Alfred cared about them, he was too concerned with Arthur to give any potential guest a second glance. 

But during the nights, when he could sneak easily through the halls and down a cobbled wall into Arthur’s private room, he felt his heart swell. Each greeting was like a breath of fresh air, sending his body into a blissful calm as he wrapped his arms tight against the man he loved so dearly. He wasted no time assuring him that they would be okay and reminding him that he truly did love him.

At first, Arthur was cruel. It was obvious his mistrust in Alfred was still weighing heavily on his mind and the prince did his best to right his wrongs. 

Night after night Alfred climbed the walls to Arthur and eventually found himself falling into open arms instead of a nasty scowl. It was slow, sure, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“I brought you this,” Alfred told him one night, his voice only barely audible. “I thought you might like it. It’s from the garden.” Reaching into his coat pocket, the younger man produced a crimson rose and presented it proudly to the captain. Its petals were slightly bruised and its stem was twisted from the journey, but he didn’t mind. “I know you love roses. I want to show you the actual gardens soon...once I get you out of here, I promise I will. You’ll love them.” 

The motivated sparkling in his ocean eyes was enough for Arthur to actually believe him for once.

Nearly two weeks into Arthur’s confinement and the talk of visiting royals was more than just a rumor. Apparently, representatives from each of the other kingdoms wished to come and visit the newly captured queen. Alfred wasn’t sure of their motives, he knew Arthur had a lot of enemies not only in The Spades but in each of the other realms as well. Still, to appease his father and hopefully gain some leeway with him, the prince promised to play nice.

Only a few days before the other royals were meant to arrive, Alfred landed gracefully onto the Brit’s balcony once more. He had perfected the landing by now and greeted his queen with open arms as he stepped into the room.

“I’ve missed you.” He smiled, pulling Arthur close and leaving kisses across his face. “I always miss you, babe.”

The pirate let out a small snort at that but allowed himself to be dragged into a tight embrace. 

“And I you, you insufferable git.” He muttered back, running a hand over his lover’s hair. 

Alfred pulled back only enough to send the shorter man a large grin before snuggling his face into his hair. “There are representatives from the other kingdoms coming to meet you soon.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know exactly who’s coming yet...but be careful. I can’t bear to think that anything else might happen to you.” Alfred spoke softly. “You or Peter. I heard him and your ship are still in the harbor outside the captial. Most of your crew is still alive, but awaiting punishment. They’re in the dungeons...but I’m trying to convince my father to release them for rehabilitation instead of execution.”

Arthur let out another chuckle, this one darker and unbelieving. “Rehabilitation for a bunch of pirates? Your father must think you’re quite mad.”

Alfred returned the smirk with one of his own. “He already does because he knows I’m dead in love with you, but what he thinks doesn’t matter to me.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s forehead.

The Brit let out a light hum, tracing his arms around the taller man’s neck and pulling him back down for another kiss on the lips. After the connection was broken, Alfred leaned his forehead snuggly against the other’s and stared down at him seriously. He could see the faint hint of hesitation in those emerald eyes.

“I’ll be there with you, you know, when the other royals come. I’ll be by your side, I’ll make sure of it.” He tried to smile encouragingly. “Come on, you look tired. Let’s get you to bed, love.” He said, putting his hand at the small of Arthur’s back and leading him towards the decorated mattress. But as he moved to cover the Brit up with the blankets, his motion was stopped by the pirate sitting up without warning. Without a word, the shorter blonde reached out and grabbed the prince’s shirt, pulling him roughly until he came barreling down onto the bed as well.

Alfred had to physically restrain himself from letting out a shocked yell, relieved that somehow the guards hadn’t heard the groan of the bed as he landed on it with a flop. “A-Artie?” He sputtered, his eyes wide as he watched the lean man straddle on top of him and glare. Normally the image of Arthur on top of him was a welcome sight, but this wasn’t exactly a friendly face.

“Stay for a moment.” The Brit commanded, sending Alfred into an array of confusion and bliss.

“What?” He couldn’t help the amused grin that tugged on his lips. When he only received a short grunt as a response he chuckled. “You know I can’t stay, Artie. What if we get found out?”

“I said only a moment.” Arthur echoed, only more annoyed this time. To complete his request, the captain shifted until he was lying down half beside Alfred and half on top of him, effectively locking him in place. He wrapped his slender arms around the other man and rested his head on the crook of his neck, inhaling the sweet scent that lingered there.

Alfred’s grin was still plastered to his face but couldn’t stop the beating of his heart when Arthur effectively wrapped around him. He’d be lying if he said this wasn’t the greatest thing he could’ve ever asked for. He reached up and began idly running his fingers through the Brit’s hair, earning him a soft huff of contentment as his eyelids began to feel heavy. He could rest for a while, he told himself, as long as Arthur was there and willing, he would gladly stay by his side as long as he could.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

Alfred awoke to a loud gasp.

His eyes snapped open but the maid was already scrambling out of the door, making way for the guards to enter instead. The prince tightened his grip around the warm body next to him protectively, growling at the predatory way the two uniformed men glared at them.

He hadn’t meant to spend the night with Arthur. Truthfully, he had fully intended to wait until the Brit fell asleep and then would slip out undetected before morning. It seemed, however, that his body had other plans and he had fully fallen asleep.

“Your highness,” One of the guards sounded both appalled and furious. “What are you doing here? You have to leave immediately.”

Beside him, Alfred could feel Arthur stirring and in an instant venomous green eyes were matching the glares of the two guarded men before them. 

“Piss off, can’t you see we were trying to sleep? Are all you capital wankers really that rude to interrupt someone's sleep?” The tired pirate swore, sending them a snarl of his own. 

They were caught, there was no denying it now. 

“Please, just exit the room. I’ll be out in a moment.” Alfred urged, more gently than Arthur in hopes to get them to listen. Unfortunately, neither guard faltered.

“We’re sorry, your majesty. However, we can’t leave you alone with him.” 

“Your father will be more than displeased by this.”

“We can’t allow him to remain here either, we will have to remove him to a more secure location.”

“Of course. Please, your highness, so we may proceed. The sooner we do this the lesser the punishment will be for your...queen.”

Alfred grit his teeth. To hell with what his father thought! Obviously he was unharmed, so why did they still distrust Arthur so much? Why could they not see they were the ones being foolish. He gripped Arthur tighter against him, his face scrunching into an angry sneer. They looked at his queen like he was little more than a wild animal in a cage and Alfred wanted nothing more than to wipe those judgmental faces right from them.

“I said I will leave on my own.” The prince challenged, finally relenting his iron grip on the man beside him in favor of pulling himself slowly out of the bed. He realized somewhere in the back of his mind that he had never even taken off his shoes before falling asleep. Not that it really mattered now anyway. “And you will not bother him. Am I understood?” The edge in his voice was unlike his usual, childish self. 

He was the beloved Prince Alfred of Spades, the golden boy, a kind man with a spirited heart. His people adored him for this. But, when faced with a possible threat to the one he cared about, his warmth turned into an uncontrollable wildfire that threatened anyone in its path. 

His darkened gaze did not go unnoticed, as he saw the subtle fall of the guard’s faces as he sized them up. He could take them, he concluded. Even if they were armored and held weapons, they wouldn’t use them against him of all people. He was the prince, after all. That didn't mean the two would not get physical if they needed to. Even still, Alfred was confident he could out match them even if the numbers were not in his favor.

“Sir, we really can’t do that. Your father--”

“To hell with my father!” Alfred shouted, successfully shocking both guards, Arthur, and himself. Not that he cared in this moment, right now he was only worried about keeping his lover safe from prying hands and potential harm. “You will not touch him.” He growled, fists clenching at his sides.

“Alfred, you’re not helping things.” Arthur’s brows furrowed together in confusion and even some irritation. They were in deep shit already now that their secret meetings had been discovered, the teen didn’t need to make things worse by getting into a fight with the guards.

His argument fell on deaf ears because the second one of the guardsmen braced himself and told Arthur to “keep your filthy mouth shut”, Alfred lost it and lundged right at him. He tackled the man to the hard ground with a carnivorous sound emanating in the back of his throat, possessive of what was his and unwilling to accept any threats. He raised his fist behind his head and brought it back down on the man’s face with painful accuracy.

He heard another shriek from the hallway, no doubt the same maid from before who was peering into the room. He didn’t care, even when he felt more hands on him, pulling him off the other male and holding him down.

It all happened in a flash, the blur of his anger blinding him to the rushing of more guards and even some mages into the room in a panic. He heard Arthur yelling something, but when he turned to look, the prince felt a sharp blow the to head and his world faded into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo, I finally got this chapter done! This one was super difficult to write for some reason. It doesn't help that I'm super distracted by other USUK ideas plaguing my mind and I desperately want to write them as a fic or RP them lmao Sadly not many people want to RP hetalia anymore so I suffer in silence ;A;
> 
> But never fear, I want to finish this story before I even TRY to start a new fic. Doesn't make the ideas in my head any less distracting XD


	16. New Players to the Game

Alfred awoke with a throbbing pain in his head.

“Ugh, what the fuck.” He groaned, holding his head as if it would make the pounding in it go away.

“Watch your language. I see Kirkland has left an unfortunate impact on you.”

Alfred jumped at the sound of another voice so close to him, his eyes widening and snapping in the direction of the intrusion. It was the current king, sitting calmly by his side. He stared at him gaping, unsure of exactly where he was or why his father was by his side as he slept. What he did know, however, was that Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

He was beaten to it before he could even open his mouth to ask.

“You disobeyed direct orders and have been visiting that pirate during the night, haven’t you?” There wasn’t much in the way of a question so much as it was just a statement. The king let out a rough huff of disapproval when his son didn’t answer. “As such, I have no choice but to relocate Kirkland to a more secure room. One you won’t be able to break into.”

He took a moment to look his son over. His young features were crinkled in irritation and he could see faint marks on his lower neck from previous private affairs, no doubt left by the captain himself. The image of his son stooping that low was unnerving.

“But upon reflecting your little escapades, I’ve deemed that a more proper punishment is in order. Kirkland will be relocated and put under the most maximum security, but he will no longer be allowed to do anything more than sit and wait.”

“What? What does that even mean?” Alfred growled, moving forward only to realize he himself couldn’t move either. With wide eyes his vision snapped to the side and saw his wrists chained to the bed he was on, allowing him to move only a very short distance. “Y-You can’t do this! Let me go!” He yelled.

“It is a necessity, you’ll see. You will be released on the night of the ball. I think a few days of solitude will prove to be a fitting punishment. No more running around the halls like a love sick puppy searching for its master.” The King muttered, taking the prince’s chin in his hand and twisting his head towards him. He matched the glare thrown at him. “Just so you understand me, son, allow me to be perfectly clear. You should relax and do as you are told. The more you struggle to understand what I’m doing is for the best then the more suffering you’ll bring your poor Arthur. Your actions will reflect his treatment. If you insist on acting out of line, his punishments will be all the worse because of you.”

For a moment hesitation flashed in Alfred’s eyes, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“What punishments?” He asked, softer this time as if he were afraid of the answer.

“Anything I see fit. Because of your little adventures in the night, Arthur has already received ten lashings. You wouldn’t want him to get more, would you?” The elder man said easily.

Then, Alfred’s calm exterior was gone, replaced by a hot fury that threatened to eat him from the inside out. His chains rattled against his harsh movements as he attempted to free himself. 

“What!” He practically screamed. “You _whipped_ him? For what! He didn’t do anything, it was all me! He was stuck in that damn room day after day, _I’m_ the one who kept visiting him even after he told me to stop!”

Despite his outburst, the king simply waved his hand as if brushing the offensive words out of the air. “It doesn’t really matter. Queen or not, he has to pay for everything he’s done in the past. He’s lucky I’ve been merciful, you know as well as I do that criminals like him do not often get anything less than a noose or permanent disfiguration. Would you prefer I do that?”

“No! I’d prefer if you treated him like my goddamn queen!”

At that, the King let out a small chuckle and stood up. “He will be treated like the queen once he acts like one and not a disgusting pirate. But don’t worry, it won’t take long, I will break him of his filthy habits soon enough.”

And despite the yelling from the younger royal and the screaming of his chains as he tore at him, rubbing the flesh beneath them raw until they bled, the king left his son alone again.

\--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

The arrival of the other kingdom’s royals a few days later sent a wave of excitement throughout the entire capital. 

Much like the impromptu parade signifying the arrival of Prince Alfred’s return home, carriages of varying colors carried new and foreign leaders towards the castle walls. Crowds clumped together on the streets for a chance to see a Heart, Diamond, or a Club wagon, each decorated as extravagantly as the last.

First came the Hearts, their red ribbons and heart-printed banners clashed brightly against the normal, Spadian blues. Most exciting was the young prince whose stoic face charmed all those he passed, offering them a polite wave but not much more. It didn’t seem to bother the crowd as they gorged themselves on his handsome features.

Next were the Clubs, a cold nation of ice and snow, but their green symbol was an ironic feature plastered for all to see. It was almost a mask, the clover of their nation a sign of luck and prosperity, even in the dead of winter. Despite this, people found themselves ogling the impressively tall, burly man with the gentle smile as he rode down the streets.

Lastly were the fashionably late Diamonds. Bright and warm, covered in gold and jewels, the King of Diamonds flashed his ringed hand enthusiastically to the people surrounding him. Women and men caught the kisses he drew from his mouth, blowing them into the crowd with fervor.

Overall, the arrival of the three foreign kingdoms was a cheerful success. Servants busied themselves making last minute preparations and ran around the castle like bees in a hive. 

Alfred could hear the commotion from his room, finally released from his bounds he rubbed at the bruised skin of his wrists with a scowl. His father had never acted this tyrannically before, at least, not to Alfred. Had it always been there and he just hadn’t seen it?

He shook those thoughts away and pulled on his navy coat. It dragged down in the back and he couldn’t help but wonder what Arthur would be wearing. No doubt, they would dress him up like a doll in Spadian nationality and the Brit would loath every second of it. This is exactly what Arthur had been trying to avoid for so long and yet, here Alfred had made his worst nightmares come true.

He mentally cursed himself for it but a soft knock on his door banished those thoughts.

“Your highness, it is time.” A calm voice spoke through the wood. When Alfred opened it, he was greeted with the familiar face of the royal Jack.

“Yao,” Alfred recognized, doing his best to bite back his anger and his anxiety. He had to do this right, for Arthur’s sake. “Let’s get this over with.”

The walk to the ballroom was long and the sound of chattering people exploded to life the second they swung the grand doors open. There were nobles and ladies scattered around the hall, each decorated with elegance and riches. Some were already dancing and others were drinking, gossiping about petty affairs that made Alfred’s head hurt.

The Chinese man pushed him onward and towards a large, stage-like platform at the end of the room. It had chairs, in which already sat the current King and Queen as they watched the people buzz below them.

Alfred ignored any greetings he received as he walked through the crowd, not truly on purpose, but his mind swarmed with different scenarios that could go wrong at any moment. 

He took his place in a chair, it was high up where he could see the entire room clearly. It was more often than not used for his parents and their more esteemed guests to lounge during parties such as this one. When they weren’t dancing around the ball room, they sat perched and watching like hawks to a bustle of prey.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Yao called after Alfred was seated, earning looks from all across the room. “I am proud to introduce our guests, who have traveled far to come and greet our new Queen and congratulate the young, Prince Alfred. So, without further ado, please welcome your majesties...”

The short man took a quick bow, pulling the doors of the ballroom open, and gestured for those outside it to come in. As he did, he dutifully introduced each one.

“Prince Ludwig, of the Hearts. King Ivan, of the Clubs. And King Francis, of the Diamonds. Welcome to The Spades.” Yao bowed to them once more.

The three took in their surroundings, obviously sizing up the room, its decor, and its occupants. At once, three pairs of eyes set sharply on the three, Spadian royals sitting on the other side of the room.

King Ivan was the first to speak. “Ah, it is nice to meet you, your highnesses.” He gave a small bow of his own, but even his crouched stature was far taller than anyone else in the room. “However, I am not seeing the newly found queen. I was told we would get the chance to meet him and I was looking forward to it quite a bit.” Something sparkled in his lavender eyes that made Alfred want to hurl, or punch him in the face, whichever came first.

The creepy Club did have a point, however. Where was Arthur? This ball was supposed to be a celebration of him coming to the castle, surely his parents weren’t going to leave him locked up throughout the entire thing!

As if on cue, the door creaked open once more and each curious face glanced to it. Standing with guards at his sides was Arthur, dressed in the finest clothing Alfred had ever seen him in. His blue eyes widened slightly, watching carefully as his betrothed strut into the room looking nothing less like complete, Spadian royalty.

“Arthur!” Alfred jumped up. As much as he told himself he would behave, the sight of Arthur finally out and free of chains made his heart beat erratically. The only thing that brought him back down to earth was his father’s cough and a harsh grip on his wrist, preventing him from jumping off the stage and towards the other blonde across the hall. Looking back, his eyes met the cold, warning glare of the elder royal and he swallowed.

Relaxing and standing up straight, he stared ahead at the man he adored so much just to find him looking right back up at him. There was something swimming there in those wide, green orbs that Alfred couldn’t quite place and it worried him to no end. So, without thinking, he grinned widely and outstretched his arms to address the room loudly.

“Welcome! Now that everyone is here, let’s get to dancing!” He bounced off the platform in a single leap, landing on the hard floor below and practically racing towards the petite, shaggy-haired man with open arms. “What do you say, Arthur? Can I have this dance with my future queen?”

Arthur’s eyes widened in disbelief, unsure if Alfred was trying to get them in trouble again or not. But, here in front of so many people, what could his father really do? So, he smiled and nodded, reaching out and allowing his hand to be taken. 

“Of course.”

Within an instant, he was pulled close against a warm chest and an arm snaked around his waist, drawing him ever nearer. 

“Good.” Alfred breathed, softer now that he had Arthur so close against him. He pulled the shorter man towards the middle of the room, ignoring the people that shifted to get out of their way, and immediately started twirling their bodies together to the music that flowed gently through the air. “I missed you.” He whispered.

Arthur only made a small sound of agreement, but his stiff limbs relaxed the longer Alfred held him close. He did his best to ignore the obvious eyes that were boring into them, even if they were being discrete, Arthur knew better than to think they weren’t at the forefront of everyone’s gaze. 

“I’m sorry...for what happened. You didn’t deserve that.” 

Green shot up and met blue. Arthur wavered at the look of sincerity and regret that twisted the younger man’s sweet face. It wasn’t a look that fit Alfred, he was meant for smiles and laughter, not worry or anger. The Brit shook his head and offered a small smile.

“Don’t worry. It’s far from the worst thing I’ve ever endured.” He assured.

His response only seemed to make Alfred’s brows furrow further together and his frown deepen.

“That’s not the point. I don’t want them to hurt you.” The prince voiced, removing his hand from Arthur’s in favor of pulling down at the other man’s sleeve. He could see the darkness of bruises lingering there from his binds, much like he had on his own, but Arthur’s looked even worse. Not only that, those familiar metal, bracelets encircled his pale wrists. It seemed even during a ball his father couldn’t trust Arthur not to kill him. For once since he returned, he thought the king actually got something right. “I promised you that I’d be your hero.”

“I don’t expect you to keep all your promises.” 

As much as he wished he didn’t, Arthur couldn’t shake that feeling of betrayal he had when he realized Alfred was the man he had spent years loathing. No amount of sweet words and gifts would change that overwhelming ache in his chest at being lied to for so long.

Alfred frowned more at that but didn’t press the issue. He knew he had a lot to prove to Arthur and he wouldn’t stop until he made everything up to him and then some. But for now, he was content to have his lover close and to twirl him around the room to the sound of music.

Several dances later, Arthur opted to take a small break and convinced the young prince to grab a drink instead of just showering him in open affection. Alfred had pouted but agreed, running off to find the nearest butler with a glass of wine.

“It is nice to meet you, your highness.”

Arthur nearly jumped out of his own skin when a low voice ghosted past his ear. He turned to find a very tall, very intimidating man looming over him with a gentle grin. He nearly looked like he could pick him up and break him in half over his knee if he wanted. Arthur sincerely hoped he didn’t try.

“Hm? Did I say something wrong? You’re looking at me as if you’ve seen a ghost.” The large man’s face morphed into something of a pout, if one could truly call it that.

“O-Oh, no, my apologies. I didn’t hear you come up.” Arthur dismissed quickly, taking a small step back. He may be a pirate with incredible magical abilities and a talent for weapons, but at the moment, he had neither of those things. It didn’t help that he had gotten quite the thorough instructions from the king before being dressed for this horrendous dance that if he were to act out of line, his brother would not go unpunished. Thus, he had to play nice. 

His explanation must have been enough for the tall man because he smiled again and nodded. “I did not mean to scare you.” He told him, accent thick on his tongue. “I am King Ivan, from the Club’s Kingdom. I would be honored if I could have a dance with the future Queen of Spades.” 

He held out a large hand and Arthur hesitated to take it. He wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity to be manhandled by a very powerful stranger, but he didn’t have much reason to refuse either.

“Of course...” The Brit muttered, slowly lifting his own hand and placing it in the much bigger one. Without a moment to reconsider, Ivan pulled his smaller body close and was turning around in time with the music. Arthur barely had enough time to register what was happening as he was shoved, almost surprisingly snug, against the smothering body.

“I’ve come to meet you, Queen Arthur. I wanted to see you for my own eyes, it’s been quite a few years since we first heard about you. We weren’t sure you would ever actually come take your place.” Ivan talked casually, spinning Arthur around in circles as he did so, arm firmly planted against his lower back to keep him secure. 

“Yes, well, I didn’t think I would either.” The pirate replied, almost bitterly as he spared a glance towards the platform the current monarchs sat on. He could see the King’s icy stare even from where he was moving in the middle of the dance floor. 

“We Clubs have been watching these silly Spades run around trying to catch you for so long, it was most amusing. I’m almost sad the fun is now over.” The Russian sighed, his conversation moving as if Arthur hadn’t spoken at all.

What a particularly odd thing to say to the next queen of said kingdom.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow and looked up at the man who held him, taking in his childish frown of disappointment now that his apparent ‘fun’ was over. 

“But, I get the feeling a new game is going to begin soon and it is exciting to finally meet the most interesting player. You’re not like the rest of these stuffy Spades.” Ivan’s smile once more tugged around the edges and, to Arthur, it almost resembled more of a smirk. He felt the hands around him tighten, as if drawing him closer to tell him a well-kept secret. 

“I do believe most of the other people here are not murders and thieves.” Arthur replied easily. He may be put off by the other male, but he was not one to back down because of a little intimidation. He had his pride and he would keep it, as much as he could in this damned place anyway.

“I’m not so sure. But, perhaps your brand of depravity is a little bit different than theirs. That doesn’t mean there are not some similarities in the ruthlessness.” Ivan offered after a bark of laughter. He seemed genuinely pleased with Arthur’s answer. “Oh, but your dear prince...he’s not like the rest either, is he? Just look at him now, he’s glaring at me as if I’m about to rip your throat out. That is funny, da?”

Arthur ignored the low chuckle that emanated from the bigger man and twisted his head enough so he could see past his large arms. Sure enough, there was Alfred, two wine glasses in his hands and narrow eyes. He didn’t look jealous so much as he looked purely predatory.

“I think he and I will become very close friends. That would be great, yes?” Another deep laugh fluttered out of the Club’s chest, but something in Arthur told him that ‘friends’ was not exactly the right word to describe the thoughts Ivan was having at that moment. 

“Of course. It would be lovely to have a good relationship between the Spades and the Clubs. I look forward to it.” The Brit announced, a tad too loud, but he felt the need to get out of the man’s grasp as quickly as possible. “Please, excuse me. I believe the prince has retrieved our drinks.”

Slowly, Ivan pulled back his arms and released the shorter man with a content smile.

“Thank you for the dance, your majesty. You are very fun.” He said.

Arthur gave a short bow, “And to you as well, King Ivan.” He told him, before turning on his heel and speeding off towards Alfred. Taking one of the beverages offered, he brought it to his lips and wasted no time drinking it down.

“What did he say?” Alfred asked lowly, cold eyes still hovering on the tall form retreating off the dance floor. 

“King Ivan? Not much. Just that he thought our little game of cat and mouse had been rather amusing for him.” Arthur mumbled. It seemed he underestimated some of these other lands. He was a wanted man in each kingdom, including Clubs, and yet the King was content in watching them for his own amusement instead of trying to capture him for his crimes. “I believe he rather liked seeing you upset as we danced.”

Alfred’s gaze was still narrowed when blue eyes turned to him instead, softening immediately when they finally landed on Arthur’s gently, smiling face. Slowly, the prince brought his free hand up and ran his fingers across his lover’s cheek and cupped his face. “Of course I was upset. How am I supposed to feel with someone else holding you like that?” He asked, but his voice was somewhat amused. “More so, I don’t entirely trust him. Ivan isn’t exactly known for his good intentions.”

“Ohoho, gossiping already?” 

The pair turned at once, finding a smug looking Francis standing not far behind them.

“It’s truly a pleasure to meet you, soon-to-be Queen Arthur.” The Diamond royal grinned, reaching out and grabbing the Brit’s hand. Without a moment of hesitation, he bent down in a bow and placed kisses upon the back of the pirate’s hand. He failed to notice the look of disgust that crossed the pale man’s face as he did so. “You’re far more lovely in person, might I say.”

“I appreciate the thought.” Arthur muttered, pulling his hand away and instead wrapped it around one of Alfred’s arms. 

The Diamond stood tall again, his eyes scanning over the pair for a moment, before another grin plastered his face. “I must congratulate you two. This has been a long time coming, and we have all been patiently waiting for your arrival. We were all shocked to hear that the Prince of Spades had gone missing. It had been so long that we all began to assume the worst. But, it is fortunate that you were in safe hands the entire time after all, hm?”

The blonde king held a strange look on his face that Arthur did not like very much. He looked like he knew something but was holding back, whatever it was. 

“It is very fortunate. I was lucky to be under Arthur’s care.” Alfred spoke up, his gaze unwavering as he stared at the other man with a silent dare to question him.

“Ah, as I said. Safe hands.” The Diamond chuckled, lifting a glass of wine he plucked from a waiter’s tray and raising it to the couple before him. “Not many of us marked find happiness with their chosen half. It is a game of wars and lying that we play, there is not much room left over for love between the likes of us.”

That was true. Most kings and queens did not care for one another, tolerant of the other more often than not and friends at the best of times. If he remembered correctly, the Prince of Hearts found his to-be queen more of a platonic companion than anything. And while that was fine for him, it wasn’t what Alfred wanted for himself. It had been a true fear of Alfred's entire life. He wanted an _actual_ relationship with his betrothed, not just a political one. 

He had found that with Arthur. 

“But,” The young king began again before either of them could reply. “It is nice when it happens. I wish you two the best of luck, you are a rare exception indeed.” 

Francis smiled from behind his glass before taking his leave, walking towards a group of well dressed noblewomen with flirtation on his lips.

“Diamonds always were strange.” Arthur muttered, twisting his body so he was standing in front of the taller man now.

“You would think it was the Hearts that were so sappy.” Alfred offered, earning him a small chuckle from the shorter male as he wrapped his wine-free arm around his slight waist. Their bodies pressed together without hesitation.

“Do you believe what he says?” The Brit murmured softly, his lips grazing the soft skin of the other’s neck. “About us?”

“You mean that we are a rare exception? I mean, yeah...kind of. We are, aren’t we?” Came the prince’s soft reply, pressing his own lips into that pale hair. “I love you, more than anything. I can feel it in every part of me. Every time I look at you, I am overwhelmed with just how much I adore you.” 

He grinned a cheesy smile against the other’s scalp, feeling the way the smaller body warmed up against him.

“So you say.” Arthur replied after a moment, pulling his face away and looking up at his betrothed with a questioning look.

Alfred just laughed, the sound ringing out into the space around them and lighting up the room in an instant. Several people turned and looked, only to be greeted by the sight of their prince staring warmly down at the man before him.

“It’s true, and I’ll keep telling you every day if I have to. I really do love you, sweetheart.” He grinned down at him knowingly, easily picking up on the light dusting of pink that tinted his queen’s face.

Arthur looked to the side, feigning interest in the dancers on the floor spinning in circles, as he sipped his wine. 

“I could do for another dance.” The pirate said quietly, but that was all that was needed since they were pressed so intimately close.

“Whatever you want, honey. I’ll give you anything in the world.” The royal laughed again, softer this time, before he finished off his glass and beckoned a butler over to relieve them of the cups. With that out of the way, his newly freed hand intertwined with the slender fingers of Arthur’s as he pulled him back towards the dance floor.

Once more, eyes were on them. 

It was almost normal now, all things considered. How each curious glance pointed their way, laced with fake acceptance. Arthur was beginning to almost revel in the disapproving stares. 

Let them look. 

Let them see how he was twirled around and dipped, kissed mercilessly upon his cheeks and neck as laughter fluttered from his chest. 

Let them see how Alfred looked at him, and _only_ him, proving the golden boy of The Spade’s Kingdom was all his. 

Let them watch as their arms tightened as they grew closer and whispered together like young kids sneaking out together into the night. 

It was scandalous. It was exciting. It was everything Arthur yearned for.

They twirled their way around the dance floor until the ball began to disperse, guests filing out slowly but surely as the night grew later. Some guests lingered, drinking one too many glasses of wine or attempting to coerce a fellow partier to be their bed mate for the evening. 

Alfred and Arthur, however, stayed pressed close. The closer they got to the inevitable end of the ball, the sooner they would be separated. If they just danced a little more, drank and laughed just a bit longer, maybe the party would go on.

“I don’t want them to take you.” The prince whispered against his queen’s lips, his large hands enveloping his pale face on either side. “When I think of you all alone, chained up… _gods_ I want to kill them.”

Arthur leaned his head slightly into one of the hands planted gently on the sides of his face, closing his eyes for a moment just to enjoy the feeling. “Who?” He asked quietly.

“Anyone who hurts you.” 

A small chuckle rumbled out of the Brit and he opened his eyes again. Green blinked up to meet blue, silent for a few moments until a third voice broke the peace.

“Your Majesty and your Grace.” Blinking and looking to their side, both blondes were shocked to find the Prince of Hearts standing near them. “I wanted to introduce myself to the future queen, as I did not have the chance earlier. I am Ludwig, I hope we have a good relationship in the future between our countries.” He stated and it sounded so rehearsed it almost hurt to listen to. Still, he sounded sincere, in his own way.

“Oh hey, Lud. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. It’s been what? A couple years or more, at least?” Alfred chimed, a sunny grin growing on his features. “How have you been?” 

For a moment, the stern look on the pale, blonde’s face softened a bit. “I have been well, thank you, Alfred. I am glad to see you back home safe and with your future queen. Things have not been easy for you, I know.”

The two continued to talk remarkably casually for two rival kingdom heirs, but Arthur hardly listened to a word they said. Instead, his gaze was hard and unyielding as he kept it on the young Heart. 

It took a while for either of the two taller males to take notice of the odd silence, but when Alfred prompted for Arthur’s input on a funny joke he had just made and received no answer, he glanced down to find his lover stiff and peering darkly. 

“Artie? Baby? What’s wrong?” Alfred asked, tightening an arm around his waist to pull the lithe body closer.

Still no answer, but now Ludwig’s attention was focused on the other man whose look was unwavering towards him. There was an unreadable expression in his eyes that Ludwig had been trained all his life to avoid.

“Your Grace,” Ludwig started slowly, eyes watching carefully. “Is something the matter?”

There was no reply for a moment, just blues on green, until Arthur opened his mouth without moving anything else.

“How could you?” His voice was surprisingly soft, a mere whisper between his lips. But his eyes hardened deeper and his face contorted into an angry sneer.

“What?” Ludwig blinked, confused.

Alfred’s arm tightened again, protective in its brace as he leaned slightly forward and towards the smaller man to look him in the face. “Huh? Artie doll, I think you’re confused. What do you think Lud did? He just got here.”

His concern was lost upon deaf ears, however. 

“How _could_ you?” He repeated, twisting his way out of Alfred’s arms so he could storm the short distance to the foreign leader with malice clearly written on his features. He only stopped when he was right in his face, scowling at him. He threw his hands in the air as if his question were obvious. “Just because of what he is! He is still your _brother_!” He yelled, shocking everyone left in the ballroom, including Alfred and Ludwig.

“My brother? What do you know of my brother?” The Heart Prince reached out and latched roughly onto Arthur’s upper arms, gripping him in such a vice it caused him to twist slightly to ease the pain. “If you know something then tell me!”

“Ludwig, let him go!” Alfred was by them in an instant, pushing between two colliding planets as he pulled them apart. He pried the foreigner’s hands off of his fiance and sandwiched himself between them, glaring daggers at the other man. “Hands off, Lud.” He growled, the warning clear in his voice.

By now, the commotion had stirred up the curiosity in the room. Every face was turned towards them, some excited to see the events take place between such high ranking individuals, others afraid for the aftermath of what could come from such an ordeal.

Not that they cared, the only eyes that mattered were the narrowed ones of the king as he stood up from his seat.

“Guards.” He spoke gruffly, motioning towards the three. “Seize the future queen and take him back to his room. Everyone else, out.” He ordered, watching as the armored men moved across the hall to do just that. The remaining guests did not need to be told twice and were bustling to get out of the room and away from the scene.

“Wait! It was just a misunderstanding, we can talk this through.” Alfred bellowed, instantly circling around to pull Arthur against his chest to shield him from the oncoming soldiers. “I’m not letting you take him there again, he doesn’t deserve it!”

He missed the confused and worried expression that crossed Ludwig’s face at that. What did that mean? More importantly, what had Arthur meant?

“Now, now, son. We’ve been through this.” The King said, his voice feigned innocence, but the venom dripped from each syllable. “I have been through this with your… _beloved_ as well. He knows the consequences of his actions. It is such a shame, causing a ruckus in front of a crowd like that? What will your poor brother think knowing you caused him so much pain for something so trivial?”

Without hesitation, Arthur stiffened in Alfred’s arms. He had forgotten.... _how could he have forgotten_? He let himself slip, he had told himself he wouldn't make a mistake. That he could do this right, for his brother! But his tongue was too ready to slice through egos and his hands too poised to strangle stuck up throats. He had let Peter down.

“Please, please, no, I’m sorry.” The Brit’s knees felt weak and he might have fallen down and begged for forgiveness, had Alfred not been holding him up so tightly. “Please, I can be better. I will be better. Just don’t hurt him!”

The arms around him pulled him ever closer and a warm breath fell onto his neck. He could hear the prince’s nervous breathing against the shell of his ear. His pleading must be hard for him to listen to.

“My, it’s too late for that, isn't it? You were told what would happen and yet you still acted out of line.” The elder royal’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “Escort both the future queen and the prince to their rooms using any means necessary. Take Prince Ludwig back to the guest quarters, ensure he is treated with the utmost respect.”

With that, the guards advanced once more, but this time there were more than even Alfred could fight off alone. Arthur hung loosely, visibly devastated, in one arm as the other fought uselessly to keep the numbers off them. 

The pirate hadn’t even put up a fight. Why should he? He would only make things worse for his brother if he did. He allowed the guards to drag him away, listening numbly to Alfred’s shouts growing dimmer and dimmer as they were forced apart once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooooo I'm not dead, just on the inside


End file.
